


Closure

by Aerilon452



Category: Longmire (TV)
Genre: Angst, Complete, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-04-05 14:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 37,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4183317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerilon452/pseuds/Aerilon452
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vic thought getting shot at was the worst thing to happen to her, but she was wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

SUMMARY: Vic thought her day had gone bad with a busted knee, but nothing prepared her for this.  
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of LONGMIRE  
RATING: T+  
PAIRING: Walt/Vic

 

CLOSURE:

 

Walt and Vic were pursuing a suspect through one of the various trails in the mountains. Shots rang out, missing them, or that’s what Walt had thought until he heard Vic’s cry. He skidded to a halt, turned to get his sights on her, but she wasn’t behind him. It took him a few moments to tune his senses to the sounding; the sound of a falling body rang in his ears. Running over to the edge of the slope, he saw Vic tumbling down, where she splashed into the rushing water below. “VIC!” Walt shouted. He looked away briefly; their suspect was gone. That didn’t matter so much, not when Vic was down, and she needed him. 

Vic was propelled backwards over the slope when one of the random shots connected with her, but she lucked out and the bullet went through the fabric of her heavy jacket. She rolled down the slope coming closer and closer to the rushing water. All the way down she struck just about every rock poking out of the ground. A yelp of pain caught her off guard when her knee struck a boulder seconds before she was in the water. The freezing temperatures made her gasp taking in a mouthful. Vic managed to get her head above water, coughing and hacking. She struggled to the bank digging her gloved fingers into the wet earth where she tried to pull her herself out of the freezing water. 

Walt hurried down the incline, his mind screaming at him to get to Vic, he had to get to her. His boots sank into the muddy bank. He closed the remaining distance between them, got into the water to help haul Vic out of the freezing fall water. His arms slipped around her torso, getting up to the grass. She cried out, Walt thought it was because is grip was too tight on her. It was then he saw her roll to her side, her hands cradling her left knee. “Vic?” Walt went to his knees by her side, pulling her on her back. “Your knee cap is dislocated.” 

“WHAT?!” Vic shouted, a mixture of pain and panic. It reminded her of the trespassing bike kid, and she remembered what Walt did. She removed her hands seeing the cap was at an odd angle. “Oh god…” Vic’s teeth started to chatter from the cold air, her wet clothes, and the pain. Though, unlike the biker they’d helped; his cap had been to the side. Vic’s kneecap was shoved up. Beside her Walt wasted no time. His right hand gripped the back of her calf and his left cradled her heel. “What the hell are you doing?” Her question came out in a rush, the words bleeding together. 

Walt slowly bent Vic’s knee until he saw the cap align. “This is gonna hurt.” He said seconds before quickly pulling her leg straight and a deafening pop sounded between them. Vic cried out, expletives coming out of her mouth in a rush, her hands shooting out to dig into his jacket. “You’re alright now.” He muttered trying not to feel the way the ice of her fingertips cut through him. They had to get up, get back to his Bronco so he could get her to the office and get her warm. 

Vic didn’t know what to feel first; cold or the fact it felt like there was a spoon gouging behind her reset knee cap. She was vaguely aware of him standing, of his hand taking her arm to pull her up and against him. Vic stretched her left arm across his broad shoulders, feeling the grip of his gun pressing into her hip when his arm wrapped around her waist to keep her in tight against him. If she wasn’t in pain she’d make some racy joke that he would either smirk at, or shake his head. She put her foot down, put a small measure of weight on her left leg, and only felt a wince of pain. 

Walt gave Vic a few minutes to gain her footing, but a few minutes was all he could spare her with the temperatures dropping in the higher elevations. The fall in Wyoming quickly gave way to winter. “Come on Vic, we gotta get back up the hill.” Walt took a step, Vic’s fingers dug into his shoulder, but she moved with him. He took another step, finding their footing for an easier ascent. Up and up he moved until they were standing on level ground. Vic was shivering at his side, the air was turning her to ice. They had to move quickly so he could get her in the Bronco and get the heater maxed out until he could get her back to town.

Vic couldn’t tell how bad she was shaking, or how loud her teeth were chattering. Walt was holding her so tight against his side that she could barely think straight. Granted, she knew he was holding her this way because her knee felt like it had been cracked open like a cantaloupe. “Oh god… oh god….” She whimpered and it wasn’t even in the fun way. Her left knee was starting to give out, but she wouldn’t let it. She couldn’t. Not in front of Walt. Vic had to stay on her feet long enough to get to the truck.

“You ok to keep movin’?” Walt asked. His fingers dug into her hip, the gloves he wore were soaked through, starting to freeze. 

“Well, I sure as hell don’t want to stay here and freeze my ass off.” Vic said through chattering teeth. Beside Walt chuckled lightly, and then tightened his hold on her once more before setting off down the trail.

 

TWO MONTHS AGO:

 

The morning started off like any other. Walt Longmire got up, he showered, got dressed, went out to tend to his horse, and then came in to have coffee ready. But this morning, he smiled when he walked into the kitchen to see Vic wearing his black t-shirt that barely came down to the middle of her thigh. One time she’d said to him that she thought she had a “pretty nice ass”. This morning, he definitely agreed with that. Walt took a few moments to let his eyes wander all over her body as he leaned against the entryway that separated the kitchen from the living room. Her body reacted to his stare. She knew he was gazing at her. Neither of them were willing to break the silence first. It was one of their morning rituals Walt had grown fond of over these last few months. 

Vic woke to an empty space beside her. Walt was already up going about his morning, tending to his horse. She rolled over putting her face in his pillow while she battled back the onset of consciousness. Unfortunately she lost that skirmish and was forced to wake up. Climbing out of bed, she picked up his discarded t-shirt from last night where she put it on before heading in to the kitchen to make coffee. Vic always felt like a zombie, at least mentally, until she had her first hit of coffee. The kettle had just been set on the burner when she heard the front door open. His measured steps, steps she knew all too well, stopped just on the threshold of the kitchen. Walt was watching her and Vic liked it when he did. “Coffee will be ready soon.” She said finally turning around to lean against the counter. 

Walt combed his fingers through his hair in a semi nervous gesture. The relationship he had with Vic had taken a turn a few weeks back. They had been here, drinking, going over evidence for their latest case, and then he was kissing her. More importantly, Vic was kissing him back. Now here she was in his kitchen, wearing his shirt, and looking particularly inviting leaning against the counter. In determined strides, Walt closed the distance between them, his hands going to her hips. Walt lifted Vic so she was sitting on the edge and he was between her thighs. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” Vic answered draping her arms over his shoulders, her fingers tangling in his hair. “Did you?” She bit her bottom lip gently when Walt’s hands started to rub up and down on top of her thighs. The roughness of his work weathered hands had her synapses firing with delicious sensations. For a while last night she hadn’t had the heart to fall asleep. Vic had fought with herself to stay awake, to watch Walt fall deeper and deeper in to unconsciousness. He looked at peace just lying beside her, his left hand on his abdomen and his right resting on her waist; his fingers lightly twitched against her body. She pillowed her head on her fist while she continued her vigil, the peace in the room lulled her into sleep a short time later. 

“Yup,” Walt answered angling his head so he could claim her lips in a lazy morning kiss. Vic giggled, which was a sound that he only ever heard when they were alone, when they were sharing tender moments together. Then the shrill whistle of the kettle echoed around the kitchen. “Time for coffee.” Walt stepped away, reluctantly leaving the warmth of her body so he could take the kettle from the stove.

“That it is.” Vic smiled, and then she burst out laughing. “Henry’s right.” She brought her hands up over her face.

“Right about what?” Walt asked glancing at his laughing deputy over his shoulder while he continued to make them coffee. 

“I’m really starting to talk like you.” Vic stated and accepted the cup of caffeinated nirvana Walt handed her. “Thanks.”

 

PRESENT:

 

Walt got Vic to the Bronco, helping her up in the cab before he went to the back to get the blanket he kept in there. Sometimes he was known to fall asleep in his truck when he had to wait around at a crime scene. Coming back to the open passenger door, he opened the blanket and wrapped it around the huddled form of Vic as she shuddered. “Let’s get you warm.” He muttered rubbing his hands up and down her arms. 

“Walt…” Vic put a little whine in her voice. “Is this the one you wrap dead bodies in?” She asked, though she shouldn’t be too picky. The blanket was heavy enough and once the heater was turned on, blowing full force, she wouldn’t mind. But for now, she was freezing, she was wet, and her knee was throbbing painfully.

“It’s been washed,” Walt replied waiting for Vic to settle into her seat so he could close the door. Vic rolled her eyes curling up in the front seat allowing him to shut the door. He took a last look up the trail knowing that he was making a call that was letting a suspect escape. But it was Vic, she needed attention, and Walt was going to let the man go. There was always another day. Vic needed him. Going to the driver’s side, he climbed in the cab, got the keys, and turned over the ignition to bring the Bronco to life, to fill the metal monster with heat.

Vic pulled the blanket up and over her head, wrapping it tightly around her. She imagined she looked like a burrito. Walt brought the Bronco to life, air from the vents hit her, making her colder. Her teeth chattered harder even as she clamped her jaw tightly together. ‘It’s going to get warm. It’s going to get warm.’ Vic chanted over and over trying to imagine herself lying in the sun on a beach. Wasn’t that what people did when they were freezing? Under the blanket she tried to pull her gloves off, but her fingers were so numb, she couldn’t tell if the protective wear was coming off. Then the blanket was opening, Walt’s hands were reaching inside to pull hers out. Seeing them now, she saw she had in fact taken the gloves off. 

Walt started to rub Vic’s hands between his big ones, trying to massage some warmth into them. He then brought them up breathing out some of his heated breath against her icy flesh. The engine rumbled, the heat filling the cab taking away some of the chill. Walt moved his hands faster, causing more friction to bring the warmth faster. Finally the heater had kicked out enough engine heat that Walt felt comfortable letting her hands disappear back into the blanket. He put the truck into drive, then his own cold hand picked up the radio. “Ruby.” Walt was trying to keep his voice calm. 

“Ruby stepped out. It’s Branch.”

“Branch, get Doc Bloomfield over to the office, get blankets out of storage, and stoke the stove to bring up the heat in the station.” Walt ordered turning his Bronco onto the main road that would take them back to town. 

“What happened?”

“Vic got hurt.” Walt didn’t even want to say that much. It was like he was lessening her as a deputy just by saying the words. He cut the radio off and concentrated on his driving. Getting her town was important, but making sure they got there in one piece was even more so. “You warming up?” Walt glanced to his right. Beside him, and he didn’t know how she did it, Vic was curled up in the passenger seat with the blanket tightly wrapped around her. He could barely make out her face.

Vic drew back the top of the blanket around her head, she wasn’t as cold, but she wasn’t getting warm either. “For just being in the water a few minutes, I feel like I was locked in a freezer for an hour.” The chattering had stopped thankfully, but her nose was running forcing her to keep sniffing every few seconds. Vic sucked in a breath and then blew it out into the blanket covering her hands. “I wonder if my lips are blue? They feel blue. Are they?” She turned her head to look at Walt while he drove. But he did spare her a glance. 

“No, they’re not blue.” Walt answered reaching out with his right hand to place it on the shuddering blanket covered Vic. He rubbed his hand up and down trying to cause more friction, more added heat. The scenery that he normally admired slipped by seemingly unnoticed. How could he take comfort in the sight of his snow covered county when Vic was hurt and freezing next to him? It still made him question when she’d become so deeply rooted in his heart. Was it when he went to see her in the hospital after she was shot with the tranq dart, where she told him that he was a man? Was it the moment she was with him in Cady’s hospital room with her hand on his shoulder? Were there too many moments to pick one that dwarfed them all? Until he had his answers, if he ever got them, he continued to rub his hand up and down.

Vic focused on the movement of Walt’s up and down her right thigh. The back and forth motion helped to chase away the cold, or at least it gave her mind something else to process, something to get her brain working. Then her mind took her back to the previous night in Walt’s cabin; his hot breath on her neck, the feel of his fingers digging in to her hips; the way he left his mark on her inside and out. Vic loved the way Walt would nip at her pulse making it speed up. She was trying to get her body to follow her mind into last night. It wasn’t having the desired effect. The warmth of the blanket, the hot air spilling from the vents was making her tired. Each time she blinked, her eyes would get heavier and heavier. Vic hadn’t been in the water long enough for hypothermia to set in, even with the temperature dropping.

Walt kept running his hand up and down Vic’s thigh feeling her body going still. His Bronco hit paved roads, thus allowing him to press the gas pedal bringing the speed up. A good thing about living in a small town surrounded by lots of open space, when it was cold people mostly stayed home in front of the fires. Walt could rule the roads on days like this. He pulled his vehicle up to the curb, rubber burning against pavement from Walt stomping on the breaks. Getting out of the driver’s side, the cold wind sliced through him as he made his way over to the passenger side door. He pulled it open and shook Vic gently. 

Vic swore she had only shut her eyes for a few seconds, they were still on a dirt road, and then cold hair filled the cab, her door was open, and Walt was shaking her. “What?” Her voice was low, she turned letting her cold booted feet dangle until she was sure she could stand. Walt didn’t leave her to sit though, his arms came around her helping her from the seat. His arm across her back was rigid, unfeeling. She knew why; they were in public. Here they had to be Sheriff and Deputy. After all, those were the roles they were comfortable with before they took a turn into being lovers. Though, since they’d mixed their person lives, their work had gotten better; at least Vic felt it had. When they started to walk across the street, Vic put some weight on her left leg. Her knee was numb, she couldn’t decide if that was a good or a bad thing.

Walt pulled opened the door to the station that used to be the library. Once the door closed behind them, the warmth started to seep into them. He glared at the stairs, momentarily cursing the fact they didn’t have an elevator. Tightening his hold on her side, Walt moved towards the steps making sure that his stride was a length that allowed Vic to keep up with him. He took a moment for Vic to get her balance at his side before he placed his booted foot on the first step. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her placing her left foot gingerly on that first step with him. Then, relying on his strength, he gripped her hip and the banister so he could pull them both up. Walt repeated the move, each time moving a little faster.

Vic felt her knee start to shake, it was going to give out on her if she didn’t sit down soon. She had thought Walt would take her through the main door of the station, but he turned and used the Sheriff’s private entrance. Since both of his hands were occupied, Vic reached out and opened the door. Awkwardly they walked into his office where she untangled herself from Walt and hobbled over to the couch. She dropped herself down, pulling the blanket tightly around her once more. “My knee feels fine now.” Vic said, lying through her teeth, but she hoped Walt believed her. “The Doc doesn’t have to come all the way over here.” Right now she didn’t want to be poked and prodded, she wanted to curl up under the blanket to go back to sleep. 

“Tough,” Walt grumbled. “You bring your duffle bag?” Before her divorce from Sean, Vic had been known to stash a duffle bag with a change of clothes in it for when she slept in the station after a fight with her husband. Though, now he wasn’t so sure. 

“Uh…” Vic poked her head out from under the blanket. “I think.”

Walt took a moment to go and sit next to her. He draped his arm around her, pulling her in against him once more. “Let’s get you in some dry clothes, let the Doc check that knee, and then I’ll take you home.”

Vic chuckled, “Oh goodie…” She rested her forehead against his stubble covered jaw. “You can see my new bed.” 

“Then let’s get you patched up.” Walt mumbled. He got up to go to the door, opening it up where he went to Vic’s desk to retrieve her duffle, if it was in the bottom drawer. Pulling the drawer open he found the duffle crammed down with a few files stacked on top. Walt shook his head picking it up. When he straightened, Branch had come back into the office. The younger man was carrying a few blankets, and Doc Bloomfield was trailing behind him spitting into the paper cup he habitually carried for his tobacco. 

“Where’s the feisty Itallian?” Bloomfield asked in his Western drawl. 

“Deputy Moretti,” Walt said stiffly. He hated when people referred to Vic by her heritage. “She’s on the couch in my office.”

Vic sat up wen heavy foot falls came back into Walt’s office. Lowering the blanket from over her head she grumbled when she saw the Japanese/Scot’s-Irish coroner. “Why are you here? You cut open dead people.” She pointed out.

“Well, hello to you too Deputy.” Bloomfield laughed. He was unfazed by her attitude. Most of the time he was just a regular country Doctor who made home visits to those patients that couldn’t come to him. “Now, what seems to be the problem?”

“You’re a coroner and I’m very much alive.” Vic snapped. “This is stupid.” She said to the Doctor, then leaning over she looked out of the office where she raised her voice to repeat for Walt’s benefit, “This is stupid!”

Walt looked at Vic, put his right hand over his .45 and snapped at her in return. “Knock it off, Vic. Let the Doc take a look at your knee.” His tone was all fire and steel. He didn’t need to fight her on this now that she was finally getting color back in her cheeks. She huffed out a breath in frustration before sitting back, mumbling a few choice words. Knowing that he had one a few minutes before Vic’s next outburst, he turned to Branch and filled him in. “A storm’s rolling in blanketing the mountain’s where we were pursuing the suspect Chandler Allen. He’ll have to take shelter soon. Tomorrow, I want you and Ferg on the other end of that trail.”

“You got it.” Branch had been tempering his gung ho attitude since coming back from his suspension. Walt had been well within his right to kick his ass to the curb, but hadn’t. Instead Branch had been given a second chance; one he wasn’t sure he deserved. After being shot, having his head scrambled like eggs, he managed to get his life back on track, mostly thanks to Cady. “What happened to Vic?”

“The suspect shot at us.” Walt answered. “Vic lucked out. The bullet tore through the shoulder of her jacket, but sent her down a steep slope where she dislocated her knee and landed in frigid water.” Walt answered. Without another word he took the folded blankets from Branch before walking back into his office. 

From her place on the couch, Vic watched Bloomfield set aside his spit cup, and then he reached for her left knee. He rested her booted heel gingerly on top of his right thigh before letting his grip the wet clingy fabric of her blue jeans. Carefully, more than she thought his capable of, he pushed the pants leg up and over her knee. Her knee was red, swollen, and it was still numb. The Doc touched the top of her kneecap, testing the pain. Vic could see him touching her skin, but she couldn’t feel it. “I can’t feel that.” She said, a small edge of panic creeping into her voice.

“That’s not uncommon, the cold water and the trauma.” Bloomfield replied, his tone gentle and understanding. “More than likely the nerves are crushed from the impact of your knee hitting….?”

“I think a rock,” Vic answered trying to recall the precise moment, yet failing. 

“Good news, Walt set the knee right away, so no lasting damage, but it will be tender for a while, and you may regain feeling in time.” Bloomfield lowered Vic’s pants leg. “If you don’t, I wouldn’t be worried about it. There’s not much between your kneecap and nerves. ”

“Why not?” Vic asked nearly setting her foot to the floor, but Walt was there. He set the folded blankets on the cushion next to her motioning for her to elevate her knee. 

“It won’t hinder your ability to walk, or run, though you may be able to predict the weather as time wears on.” Bloomfield joked picking up his cup.

“Ha ha.” Vic rolled her eyes pulling the blanket around her. She was getting cold again. More than anything she wanted to change out of her wet clothes and then go home. Her bed was calling as well as the promise of Walt’s body and the comfort of his arms holding her.

“Don’t worry Deputy. You’ll be back to normal in a few days.” Reaching into his bag, Bloomfield pulled out a prescription pad. In Doctor chicken scratch he wrote her out a script for some prescription Tylenol 500mlg tablets. “If that’s all, I’ll be out of your hair.” He handed over the piece of paper before leaving.

“Thanks Doc,” Walt followed him to the door. Bloomfield waved over his shoulder continuing towards the main door. Branch was at his desk and Ruby was at hers. Ferg was the only one out, possibly answering one of the many mundane calls this town was known for. He shut his office door, flipping the lock for added safety. Then he went to the second door and locked it. The last time he forgot to lock a door had been rather an awkward situation between him, Vic, and his daughter Cady. Walt was not eager to have a repeat of that. He closed the distance between him and Vic, where he sat in the vacated chair the Doctor had left behind. Gently, his voice as soft as he could make it, Walt said, “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes.” 

“Ooh, a girl lives to hear those words.” Vic tried to be mad at him for snapping at her in front of Branch and the Doctor, when he spoke to her like that, she couldn’t keep it up. He was tender when he took her right foot in his hands tugging the soaked leather off of her foot. She watched as the shoe was tossed aside and Walt divested her of the soggy sock making her toes cold. Vic fought back a laugh when Walt started to massage some warmth back into her foot. “You don’t have to do that.” She mumbled. He just looked at her, his eyes telling her not to argue. It pleased her that she could still be amazed by Walt, amazed that he was giving her another peak under his Cowboy Sheriff façade. Rather than say anything more, she closed the blanket around her watching in utter fascination at the movement of Walt Longmire’s fingers moving over her skin. 

 

TWO MONTHS AGO:

 

Vic took her coffee mug and a blanket outside to the porch where she curled up on the bench to watch the land sprawling out in front of Walt’s cabin. There was so much peace to be found here, sitting still, and taking a little time to feel it. Walt had an amazing piece of property; wide open space, the view of the mountain. It filled her with an inner sense of contentment. Vic could sit out here for hours and not notice time slipping by. The cabin door opened with Walt coming out, his own cup of coffee in hand. She moved so that when he sat down, her back would rest again his chest, and his left arm would drape comfortably over her shoulder holding her even closer to him. Vic sighed taking another sip of the hot liquid. She was finally in a place where she belonged, as add as it was for her to admit. Victoria Moretti, lifelong native of Philadelphia was finding some measure of peace and happiness in Abseroka County. It was because of Walt Longmire. 

Walt kissed the right side of Vic’s head holding her close while she watched the sprawling landscape before her. Taking a lazy morning, during a seemingly slow week had done them both some good. There had been trouble on the Res, Nighthorse and Strand were stirring the pot trying to win over those opposed to the casino now that it was complete. A body had turned up tied to a tree, scalped, and with several broken bones. One of Malachi Strand’s hired thugs had been responsible, but there was no way for Walt of the department to pin it to the man himself. Even Mathias was frothing at the mouth to see Malachi behind bars. The man had been a relative of the Tribal Police Chief. Walt was trying for patience, eventually Malachi would make a mistake. Until that happened, he was trying to enjoy life, enjoy the new boundaries of his relationship with Vic. 

“You’re thinking about it again.” Vic gently nudged Walt in the gut.

“Thinking about what?” Walt asked, his lips still against her hair.

“You’re plotting a way to nail Malachi’s ass to the wall and get him put back in prison, and with luck your scheme will snare Nighthorse too.” Vic replied, a wicked smile on her lips. 

Another light kiss to the side of her head, Walt answered, “Not today I’m not.” His coffee was all but forgotten. He brought his left arm across her torso, his palm resting on her right shoulder. “How can I think about anything other than you right now?” Switching gears Walt let his body feel Vic beside him, the way she breathed in, the softness of her hair against his lips. Because of her, his life had found a new direction away from the pain of his wife’s murder, because of Vic he could start to heal from it. 

“Ooh, good answer.” Vic chuckled resting her right hand on the inside of his left thigh. They needed more mornings like this. Idly her index finger rubbed back and forth in a small line while she watched the land before her. The silence wasn’t driving her crazy like it used to. If she listened hard enough she could hear the sound of birds, of livestock, and of the other four legged inhabitants of the wide open Wyoming range. “Do we really have to go in today?”

“You wanna leave Branch and Ferg at the mercy of Ruby?” Walt joked.

Vic laughed, “No, we shouldn’t, and yet I kinda want to play hookie just to pay Branch back for his ‘Crazy Time’ when he was hunting down David Ridges.” She brought the mug up to her lips.

“We could…” Walt said. Taking the morning off to be alone with Vic sounded like a wicked indulgence. 

“But we won’t.” Vic replied with a sigh. She knew they wouldn’t. Not now and not ever. 

 

PRESENT:  
WALT’S OFFICE

 

Walt helped Vic stand up, his hands on her ribs while she undid her belt, unbuttoning her pants, and lowering the zipper. Her hands settled on his shoulders while he gently tugged the wet jeans down her hips. The skin that was exposed was cold and clammy. She wobbled on her feet, Walt paused momentarily waiting for Vic to balance herself. “You ok?” Walt asked looking up at her from his place in the chair. She squeezed his shoulder, silently telling him she was fine and that he should continue. He got her jeans down to her knees, after that it was just the simple matter of having Vic step out of them. Tossing them aside for the moment, Walt picked up the ace bandage the Doc had left behind. He held the edge just below her knee and then with great care he wrapped the bandage around her swollen knee to give her a little added support for the long ride home. 

Vic sucked in a shaky breath watching Walt wrap her knee. She could stand, borrowing his silent strength while he showed her all the tenderness he had. He pulled the wrap a little too tight bringing a small yelp from her. “I’m ok, I’m ok.” Vic said quickly feeling her left knee start to tremble again. He tucked the end in and pushed back from her so she could get her change of pants on. There was just enough give in the wrap so she could bend her knee, pulling the black fabric of her track pants up. Vic sat down unbuttoning her shirt. The finally broken in khaki uniform shirt was dropped to the floor, and her suddenly so restrictive under shirt with it. From inside the duffle she pulled out her t-shirt to put on. When she got home she would take care of the wet bra as well as her panties. 

Walt had to back away from Vic, had to take a few minutes to reign himself in. He could take being shot at, had covered Vic out in the field, but the sight of her falling back about did him in. Before they had changed the nature of their relationship, Walt couldn’t stand to see Vic in danger. When he turned back, Vic was in dry clothes, and she was pulling the blanket back around her. Walt took his seat in front of her once more, where he picked up her wet clothes to put them in her duffle. He was seeing her like this and couldn’t help but feel responsible for it. 

“It’s not your fault.” Vic said from behind the blanket. She knew the set of his shoulders, the slight slump to them. He was feeling guilty over this. “There was no way for us to know he had a gun.” She said, but that excuse was weak. Cops were taught to expect danger in the most routine of circumstances. They had just gone to talk to Chandler Allen; he was the one who made the choice to run.

“I risk your life every time we uh…” Walt rubbed his hand over his mouth. “Every time we’re out in the field something could happen to one of us.” He silently worried that that day could be their last if they weren’t on alert. Since meeting Vic, since working with her, he’d come to care a great deal about her; more than he thought himself capable of for another living person that wasn’t Cady or the memory of Martha. Vic, as always, proved the exception to any rule or preconceived notion. She could move him to be a better man than the one she had met 2 years ago when he was just watching the clock run out. 

“Walt.” Vic shrugged out of the blanket, letting it pool around her waist. “We were like this before. You refused to let me go with you up that mountain, then you tried to get Gorski to leave when I didn’t even want to make it your problem, and just the latest on that list, you traded your life for mine with a crazy survivalist. Just because I occupy your bed doesn’t mean that your protective instinct towards me is any more heightened than it was before.” She’d had time to think about this, time to put her feelings into some sort of order that she could understand. Her track record with men hadn’t exactly been stellar. With Walt she felt she had a real shot at experiencing the things someone was supposed to feel when they were truly happy with another person. 

“How do you do that?” Walt asked quietly.

“Do what?” Vic asked rubbing her left hand up and down her knee. 

“Say exactly what I need to hear,” Walt answered picking himself up from the chair. “Let me get you my other coat to wear out of here and then I’ll take you home.”

“As long as you stay with me tonight.” Vic smiled when Walt flipped the lock and opened the door. Leaning over, she reached for her boots while keeping her left leg elevated. She was eager to head home, to crawl under her clean covers, and hopefully have Walt with her, holding her. 

 

VIC’S HOUSE:

 

Walt shifted his Bronco into park outside of Vic’s house. It was dark inside where as five months before it would have been blazing with lights from the lamps Sean would have left on. That was then, this was now. Sean was in Australia, leaving even before the divorce was finalized. Anything that he could pack into a few boxes he left for Vic. There were currently five large black trash bags waiting to be picked up. Walt turned the key, killing the rumbling engine. “You really want me to stay?” He asked looking at the dark house. The thought of staying the night in Vic’s house made him uneasy. Lately when the day was done, Vic would follow in her truck back to his cabin. Other than that one night at Lizzie’s place, Walt really hadn’t spent the night at another woman’s home. Even though Vic and Sean were officially divorced, there was something unsettling for Walt just walking into another man’s home.

“Of course,” Vic whispered. “Got rid of the old furniture and bought some that were more… me.” She looked out the window, dreading going back into the frigid wind that sliced right through her. Vic crossed her arms over her chest, a low groan of apprehension rattling at the back of her throat. “I did mention I had a new bed right?” Vic looked at Walt, the teasing self-evident in her tone. Walt cracked a smile at that. She uncrossed her arms, her right hand reaching for the door latch, but she stopped at that last moment. Briefly, there was the desire for her to tell Walt to turn the engine over and head to his cabin. It was where they spent most of their nights lately since winter was upon them, even though according to the calendar it was still late Fall. She found she liked the coziness of his cabin, the fireplace that filled the four walls with the right amount of heat plus the added warmth that Walt gave her. 

Walt reached over placing his right hand on her left thigh. He was waiting for Vic, for her mind to be made up. Vic placed her hand over his, her thumb rubbing back and forth in slow passes. She was stalling. He wanted to know, but only when she was ready to tell him. Walt turned his hand over, lacing their fingers together and muttered, “We can still go to my place.”

“Have you ever had this nagging feeling that something is gonna happen?” Vic asked looking at her dark house. Since yesterday she’d had this gnawing suspicion that something was going to come crashing down on her head and shake the foundation of the life she had managed to keep together out here. 

Walt felt panic rise in him upon hearing Vic’s question. “There something I need to know?” For a moment he feared for her, tried not to jump to conclusions that Gorski had returned after 6 months of peace for Vic. 

“Nope,” Vic looked at Walt. “Just the feeling that I shouldn’t get out of bed tomorrow.” She looked down at their joined hands. “Your place sounds really good after all.” Walt nodded taking his hand from hers so he could turn the key bringing the Bronco back to life. All of a sudden, her house seemed alien to her, some place she didn’t want to be. There would be another time for them to stay at her house, another time to warm the new sheets of her bed. That just wasn’t tonight.

 

TO BE CONTINUED:


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking some liberties with Vic's brother. Hope you all enjoy this chapter!

WALT’S CABIN:  
THE NEXT MORNING

 

Vic opened her eyes to see the ceiling of Walt’s cabin. Normally when she slept, she slept on her side, but not last night. Walt had insisted that she elevate her knee to help reduce the swelling. Vic, naturally had argued that she was fine, even though they both knew she was lying, and eventually his passive aggressive manner of staring at her got her to cave in, but it was only because her knee was killing her. Blinking a few times, Vic sat up pushing the covers down to her waist. This morning her knee actually felt better. The true test would come when she stood up. She placed her bare feet on the floor, her hands on the edge of the bed, and took a few deep breaths before pushing herself up. There was a moment where her knee wasn’t sure if it was going to hold. Vic took a moment to flex, to stretch out the muscles, and then tried again. She took a step, there was a little bit of pain; it was nothing she couldn’t handle. The more she walked on it, the more the pain would fade away.

Walt was at the stove making breakfast, pancakes and scrambled eggs. The coffee was steeping, just waiting to be poured when Vic got up. He’d woken up off and on to check on her as she slept peacefully next to him. At one point he had to get up, to add a few more logs to the fire, and when he returned he brought another blanket back with him, to place of her; she’d started to shiver once more. The next time Walt woke up, it was morning, and he had a few chores to see to before the day officially started for him as Sheriff. When he came back inside the cabin, Vic was still sleeping, and it was then he set himself the task of making breakfast until he heard her stirring. Taking a few minutes, Walt turned from the stove where he found her standing in the doorway much as he had most mornings. “Feelin’ better?” Walt looked her up and down, seeing her knee was a little black and blue, but she was standing on it without much complaint. 

“Yup, it’s a little stiff, but I can walk.” Vic nodded moving into the kitchen, going over to the table where the coffee was waiting for her. She needed that first hot jolt of coffee to finish waking up, to completely process the rest of her body’s aches and pains from the rocky tumble she’d take yesterday. The warm dark liquid danced on her tongue, sliding down her throat to settle in her belly. All too soon the caffeine would be metabolized into her blood stream, and after that happened she would be able to think better. Taking in a deep breath, she smelled food over the intoxicating scent of the Sumatra blend of coffee in her cup. “Are those pancakes?” Vic asked, her brain starting to fire on all cylinders just from one drink. She’s be in tip top shape by the time her mug was empty and well on her second cup. 

“Scrambled eggs too.” Walt replied setting the spatula aside after he flipped the last pancake onto a waiting plate. He then dished up the eggs and went to the small two seat table where he placed a plate down for her. Most mornings they just grabbed a quick bite at the Busy Bee before heading into the station. This morning, Walt wanted to actually take the time to have a real breakfast with her. 

Vic sat down opposite Walt, stretched her left leg out under the table. The pancakes, the eggs; all of it smelled so good to her empty belly. Teasingly she asked, “You know what pancakes mean right?” It had been too long since anyone had made her breakfast like this. The last time Sean had, he’d thought he had to outdo the affections of a secret admirer; that turned out to be Gorski. She took her fork, cut a small wedge, and placed the buttery maple syrup covered goodness in her mouth. 

Walt took a swallow of his coffee, and then set his mug down to answer her. By her tone, he knew she was being playful, which was a good sign that she would be in good spirits. “No, what do they mean?” He answered her with a question of his own. 

Vic set her fork down and wiped out her mouth. She felt a small dribble of syrup painting her lips. “Pancakes mean, ‘Thank you for last night’.” Vic waited for Walt to catch on.

“Then I should have made these for you a while ago.” Walt muttered. Vic chuckled picking her fork up once more to finish eating. It was nice to spend this day as normal people, trying to rid themselves of the events from the previous day. 

Vic ate bite after bite of her delicious breakfast, and before she knew it the plate was clean with a few streaks of syrup as evidence that she even had a full plate to begin with. She looked at her empty coffee cup, seriously debating whether she wanted another cup before hitting the shower to rid herself of the last remnants of sleep. The coffee could wait. Vic got up and gave her knee a moment to settle before she would try walking on it. She took her plat, the mug, and her silverware to the sink. “I’m gonna get a shower before work.” She was half way out of the kitchen when she turned to Walt and teased a little more, “Unless you’re grounding me and giving me a day off.” His look said it all. It was worth a try after all, and she would try it many more times.

Walt grinned at Vic as she walked out of the kitchen to return to the bedroom and from there into the shower that still had yet to be complete. Though, that didn’t seem to bother her in all the nights she’d spent here with him, and in all the showers she had taken. He knew he would get around to completing the renovations, he didn’t know when that would be. It took poking and prodding from Henry to get him to even find lumber to finish the front steps. Polishing off the rest of his food, Walt got up and set his plate in the sink. Just as he was filling up his coffee mug the land line rang. He was going to ignore it, let the machine pick it up, but Walt walked over to where the phone sat, and picked up the handheld hitting the call button. 

“Walt, its Ruby, don’t hang up.”

“Morning Ruby,” Walt greeted as friendly as he could on one cup of coffee. “Have we got another body?” He asked turning his attention to the bedroom door listening to the sound of the shower.

“No, nothing like that. There are three people from Philadelphia here to see Vic.”

“Philadelphia? Are you sure?” Walt asked even though he needn’t have bothered. Ruby knew what she was doing, and had been more than competent at her job since before he was Sheriff. Behind him the water shut off. 

“Walt, I know how to check ID’s.”

“I’m sorry Ruby,” Walt muttered reaching for his coffee cup. “Did they say what they wanted?”

“One of them is an ADA, his name is Raphael Michaels. The next two are a little more complicated.”

How more complicated could they be after an ADA had come all the way to talk to his deputy? Walt took a swallow of coffee thinking over what he would ask next if Ruby didn’t take his silence as prodding that she should cut the suspense and just tell him. “And the other two?” He broke first not wanting to prolong this conversation. 

“I tried calling Vic, but her phone was off. The next one is a Detective, Vincent Moretti.”

“Vic’s brother?” Walt asked.

“What about my brother?” Vic walked into the living room buttoning the last button on her other khaki uniform shirt. She had on her blue jeans, her belt was firmly in place so she had a place for her gun in its holster, her cuffs, and her badge.

“Tell em we’ll be in as soon as the roads allow.” Walt said to Ruby and this ended the call. To Vic he said, “I don’t know what it means but there is an ADA from Philadelphia, as well as a Detective Moretti. Vincent I believe waiting at the station for you.”

Vic rolled her eyes. “Oh, Vinny.” The thought of her second eldest brother flipped her stomach in an uncomfortable way. “If he’s here then it has to be in some way related to the Donalato case. My brother worked with Bobby a few times, they were friendly with each other. He blames me, like everyone else.”

“I thought that was over and done with?” Walt asked putting the phone back in the charger. 

“My part of it, yeah. There was no trial, he ate a bullet before that could happen.” Vic answered going to the couch to find her boots. She pulled them on, wiggled her tones, and then stood up to fix her pants. “I have no idea why they would be here. Really, Walt, I don’t know.” She was telling the truth. Vic had worked so hard to build a new life here, and she was trying to cement the bonds of their relationship. Vic wouldn’t hold anything back if it jeopardized what she had with Walt. 

“All right,” Walt nodded. “How’s the knee?” Maybe there was something to Vic’s bad feeling last night. Maybe they shouldn’t have gotten out of bed today. If he had been a man of a lesser character, he would have taken off his boots, and spent the rest of the day making sure Vic had a proper amount of time to heal. Then again, he wasn’t like that. He was a man of duty. Vic understood that about him. 

“It’s good,” Vic answered. “I’ll be able to walk, but tackling suspects; give me a week on that one.” She joked, showing Walt that she was fine by bouncing on the balls of her feet. There was only a little bit of pain, but it was nothing she couldn’t deal with. “We ready?” Vic was eager to get the day started so she could get whatever was waiting for her at the station over with. ‘I really shouldn’t have gotten out of bed today.’ She thought.

Walt smiled. He set his mug aside on the table next to the phone, went to the coat rack to hand Vic one of his sheep skin lined jackets; the one that had white thread sewing up a bullet hole from the last time he’d been shot at. Lucky for him Chance had been a lousy with his aim that night. She shrugged into it, zipping it all the way up and putting on the gloves that were hiding in the pocket. Walt followed suit, pulling his own coat on as well as his hat that he never left without. Then he was back at the front door, rifle in hand and Vic behind him. They were ready for the day. 

Vic pulled Walt to a stop before he could leave the cabin and stand on the porch. Without a word, she stepped in close to him and without having to take his hat off, she pressed her lips to his or a few seconds. “For luck dealing with me and my brother today. It won’t be pretty, I warn you now.” She said lightly knowing that today would not be an easy one on top of the suspect they still had to apprehend. 

“What do I need with luck when I have you?” Walt asked gently. The moment Vic walked into his life, her sarcastic tongue, her authority issues, and her tough as nails attitude, he knew his life was going to be more interesting with her around. She was about to respond when he swooped in to kiss her, stalling her words. 

 

RED PONY:  
TWO MONTHS AGO

 

The day had been one of those slow days where everyone in the county had decided to be on their best behavior. Ferg had spent all day sitting at a speed trap while Ruby was out of the office. Vic hadn’t had anything to do except play with her puck and stare outside the window but thankfully it had ended with Walt taking her out to eat at the Red Pony run by the ever so jovial Henry Standing Bear. Sometimes Vic didn’t know how he did it, how he stayed so chipper. Though, being gotten off of murder charges was bound to change ones outlook on life. The music was playing, a few patrons were shooting pool, and she sat next to Walt at the bar while he had a long neck of Rainier; his beer of choice. Thinking one of them should be without alcohol in their system, Vic stuck with a soda.

Walt turned to face Vic casually stretching his arm out to rest his hand on the back of her barstool. “Are you sure you don’t want a beer?” He asked, his fingers moving until they felt the heat of her back through the uniform shirt that she somehow made look so damned enticing to his eyes. She looked at him, and he knew what the fire in her eyes meant. Vic reached out, took his beer, and placed it to her lips upending it. She finished off the liquid inside in two deep swallows. “You have this thing about taking my beer.” He pointed out. Vic shrugged setting the bottle down.

“Yeah,” Vic licked her lips, “I do. At least I’m getting you another one.” She smiled broadly and then she looked to Henry, held up two fingers, essentially a peace sign, signaling for two more bottles of Walt’s preferred brew. “What the hell. We’re off duty and it’s not like we’ll be driving anywhere soon. And it’s not like I’m going home.”

“Why not?” Walt asked picking up one of the fries that came on the side of his burger that had long since been devoured. 

“Sean’s getting the rest of his stuff, well the things that he absolutely wants to take with him when he heads back to Australia.” Vic answered munching on her own order of fries. The longer she could prolong going home the happier she would be. Sean was checked into a motel, and with luck he would already be gone when she got to the house. 

“Oh,” Walt replied idly drawing his left index finger back and forth in a small line while he waited for Henry to bring their beers. His lifelong friend of 38 years was currently flirting with two pretty female patrons. They were giggling at some joke he was making. Knowing Henry the way Walt did, he knew his friend would be flirting for a little while longer. He wasn’t inclined to wait, not when he sensed Vic really needed that beer. She was eyeing her soda as if she wanted to hurl it across the room just to get it away from her. “Be right back.” Walt muttered getting up to go around the bar.

Henry was using his subtle charm to flirt with two lovely brunette. One was name Jennifer and the other was Tiffany. This was just the sort of distraction he needed after all that had happened. They were laughing, Tiffany was flipping her hair, and placing her hand on top of his. Out of the corner of eye he saw Walt walking behind the bar. “Ladies,” He stood up straight and clapped Walt on the shoulder. “This is my best friend, the Sheriff of the county, Walt Longmire.” 

“Really? The Sheriff huh? That’s got to be hard work.” Jennifer laughed.

“Yup,” Walt answered picking up to long neck Rainier’s. Then, leaning in close to Henry he whispered. “If you try to set me up with one of those brunette’s, Vic will kick your ass, and I may let her.”

“And she would do this because?” Henry asked, and then to his great regret he was being a little slow. “Oh.” He looked at Walt, then to Vic who was eyeing them like a hawk, and then back to Walt. “Finally, you two are a good match.” Henry nodded. 

“Stop it.” Walt shook his head. He held up the two bottles, “I’m taking these.”

“They are on the house.” Henry smiled broadly at Walt, who only shook his head again. Giving his attention back to his two beautiful patrons, Henry apologized, “I am sorry ladies, where were we?”

Vic arched her brow when Walt sat down next to her, handing her one of the beers. “What the hell was that all about?” She asked twisting the top off and then took a swig of the cold liquid. “No, no, let me guess. Henry needed a wing man and you just happened to walk over at the right time.”

Walt took a long drink from his bottle as Vic eyed him, amusement making her eyes shine. Swallowing and lowering the glass to the bar top, Walt replied, “Yup, but I told him if he tried, you’d kick his ass.”

“Damn right I would.” Vic picked up her bottle to take a drink. “You’re all mine cowboy.” She teased, bursting with laughter when Walt gave her an almost unamused glare.

 

SHERIFF’S STATION:  
PRESENT

 

Walt stood outside the main entry door to the office that housed his office, the reception desk, a single iron built jail cell, and enough space for Vic, Branch, and Ferg. This was the first time in a long while his hand had hesitated over the knob. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go in, wasn’t sure he wanted to subject Vic to the memories of Philadelphia that lay just beyond the door. She’d been right in what she’d said last night before they left. He had this driving need to protect her from anything that could possibly come at her. It was just how he was built. Vic was strong, stronger than he thought anyone should have to be all the time, but he had also seen a hint of frailty in her eyes. Now he knew it was because of the torment she’d received at the hands of Ed Gorski for doing her job. 

Vic saw Walt hesitating. She appreciated it, really she did. There was no way she wanted to be in the same room as her brother love him as she did, she didn’t like him most days. They were two different people and he held it against her that she turned Bobby into IAB. She did her job. That’s what she told herself day in and down out. It’s what Walt told her. Yet, to this day, she still felt sick about it. Cops didn’t turn on Cops. There was that thin blue line that was never to be crossed; and she crossed it. Reaching out, her hand settled on his left shoulder. There was nothing to say, nothing she could say that would make this moment any easier for either of them. She was facing her brother. He was meeting her family for the first time. This had all the makings for an awkward situation. The sooner Walt Longmire opened that door, the sooner Vic Moretti would know how this day was going to end. Would she be in a cell for assault?

“You sure you want to do this?” Walt asked. She rarely talked about her family. It either hurt her too much or made her unbelievably home sick. Walt could understand the longing for family. 

“I can’t really run away.” Vic shrugged. “Did that already and look what happened.” She sighed and shook her head. Even if she wanted to go him, which she currently didn’t, there would be no way she’d even be trusted at any Philly precinct again. Once cops associated her with RAT, there would be no getting rid of that label, and there would be no way she would ever work for Internal Affairs. 

“You did your job.” Walt reminded her. He knew how this tore at her. Cops, even deputies, had to have a certain level of trust to be able to go into dangerous situations, and when that was gone, there was not getting it back. Even knowing what he knew about Vic’s past in Philly, he still trusted her with his life, with his back, and would go into any situation with her. 

“Yeah,” Vic nodded. “Tell that to my brother.” She muttered, stepped around Walt, and opened the door. Vic walked in to find Ruby at her desk, Branch leaned back in Ferg’s old chair, and Ferg at Branch’s former desk. This was what a normal morning had started to look like since Branch had come back from suspension two months ago. With Walt behind her, she moved further into the office cautiously looking for her brother and the ADA. 

“Mornin Ruby,” Walt walked into the office, away from Vic, and over to the coat tree where he rested his rifle against the wall barrel up. He shed his jacket, placed it on the hook, and took his hat off placing on top of the coat tree. For a moment, before things got too out of hand, Walt wanted a little bit of normalcy. “Ferg, Branch, any luck with finding Chandler Allen?” He asked.

“We found him this morning, Sheriff.” Ferg announced getting up to motion to the occupied cell. 

“He was checked into a seedy motel.” Branch chuckled. “Wasn’t too bright really. This guy registered under his name and even still had the gun on him that he used to shoot at Vic.” He stood up holding the evidence bag out to Walt. “It’s got kick for a revolver.”

Walt didn’t take the bag, he just nodded. “Yeah. Good work.”

Branch took the grumbled praise. He had a lot to make up for in this office, a lot of wrongs to right. Leaving his “new” desk, he walked over to Vic and asked quietly, “You doing ok?” Vic and Branch had never been friends, but they used to have a pretty good working relationship, well, a less hostile one. If anything he needed to fix that to ease some of the strain that radiated through the office when all of them were in residence. 

“Yeah,” Vic answered furrowing her brow. She was still a little leery of Branch since his stint in crazy town, and the fact he tried to choke her in this very office. “How about you? Any time traveling Crazy Dogs try kill you lately?” For as long as she could, Vic was going to keep rubbing Branch’s face in his break from reality. It was petty, and small, but it made her feel better. 

Branch scoffed, amusement ringing in his voice. “Are you ever gonna let that go?” He couldn’t be too terribly angry with her. He’d done worse to earn her wrath; his hands wrapped around her throat would be something that would stay with him. It reminded him of just how unhinged he’d become chasing David Ridges. 

“Not a chance. I’m gonna hold that over your head for a long while.” Vic smiled sarcastically. Feeling a little bit better, she shed Walt’s coat, almost lamenting having to take it off. She loved having Walt’s scent all around her, but she let the warm coat fall from her shoulder so she could hang it up.

Ruby got up from her desk after Walt got the morning report from Branch and Ferg. “Walt, the two people from Philadelphia are waiting from your office.” She said and handed him a few sticky notes. “Also, Henry called, said he would bring lunch by later. Cady wants to have dinner, just said you should call her when you can.” 

“Two?” Walt pushed the sticky notes into his pocket. “I thought you said there were three people?”

“The other one went to have breakfast as the diner down the street. I told her you would be in later.” Ruby answered. 

“Her?” Vic looked at Ruby. “You said ‘her’?” She was almost afraid to guess who the other person could be. If her brother was here, then that meant… Vic stopped that train of thought, turned, and headed towards Walt’s office. She had just breezed by her boss when his arm shot out and wrapped around her waist to keep her away from his office door. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“Vic, don’t.” Walt put himself between Vic and the door, which wasn’t the smartest place to be when she had a head full of steam. “You go in there with a cool head, and I’ll give you a free pass to pop your brother in the nose later.” He bargained with her. Walt knew better than to give Vic an order; she hated to be told what to do.

“You promise?” Vic asked knowing better. Walt wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t intend to deliver.

“Yeah,” Walt nodded. 

“Ok,” Vic forced her body to relax. “I guess I need to find out why they came all the way here.” 

“That would be good.” Walt remarked sarcastically. This time Vic rolled her eyes at him. He gave it a few more seconds before he tempted fate and opened his office door. Watching her face, he reached behind him to turn the knob of his office door. Walt pushed it open and walked inside putting on his professional face. “My apologies for keeping you. I’m Sheriff Longmire.” He said coming around to sit behind his desk. Vic moved with him, her body language reading as professional, albeit a little hostile, as she stood to his left. She had her left hip cocked, supporting most of her weight on her right foot. 

ADA Raphael Michaels stood up from the chair, “We meant to notify you of our arrival, but this was a last minute trip out here to speak with Deputy Moretti.”

“So Ruby said.” Walt acknowledge. “And you want to speak to my deputy regarding what?” He put emphasis on MY just so they knew that they would have to go through him to get to her. “A phone wouldn’t have worked?”

“I’ve tried,” Vincent answered looking at his sister. “She wouldn’t answer.” His tone conveyed his annoyance with his little sister, who was glaring at him.

Vic rolled her eyes, “I thought you were calling to be an asshole to me. You have every other time.” And, well, she was starting to pick up more of Walt’s bad habits. When she was with him she would turn off her cell phone, unless she was on call. “What do you want?”

“We’re here,” Michaels drew everyone’s attention back to him. “To talk to you about Ed Gorski. You had a relationship with him if I’m not mistaken.”

Vic balled her hands into tight fists, her bails biting into her palms. “I wouldn’t call it that. More like three months of sex and then I ended things because he was married.” She wasn’t too eager to talk about what Gorski did to her, how because of him she had to leave her home, and how she stayed in a marriage to a man who wasn’t right for her in the end. “Why do you want to ask me about Gorski, Raphe?”

“Well. Victoria,” Raphe used her first name noticing the way it annoyed Longmire. “I’m currently the Prosecuting attorney assigned to a case where Ed Gorski could potentially wind up behind bars for stalking and aggravated assault.”

“Who told you he stalked me?” Vic asked. She hadn’t made an official complaint as she couldn’t prove it. The only one she told out here was Walt, and he wouldn’t put it in writing, not unless he had to. Raphael’s eyes slid over to Vincent sitting next to him. She glared at her brother, “You didn’t?”

“What was I supposed to do Viccy?” Vincent stood facing down his sister. “That loser stalked you, drove you from your home out here in this middle of the nowhere spotty cell reception of a black hole.”

“Oh, that’s rich. Now you care?! Where was that concern when he was breaking into my apartment? When he was leaving empty shell casings in my locker? Where were you when I had no choice but to move away? Oh, yeah, I know where you were. You were holding it against me that I did my job!” Vic raised her voice. “And by the way, I like it here.” That bit of truth came out in a rush. She hadn’t mean to say it, but there it was. Most of what appealed to her about being here was Walt Longmire; his silent manner, his gentle nature, and how he always knew when something was wrong with her even when she lied.

“You ratted on another cop!” Vincent shouted taking a step towards his sister all the while keeping tabs on the Sheriff, who was now standing. He was watching to see if the Sheriff would try to intervene. “You don’t do that to someone you have to trust with your life. You weren’t an IA snitch. So, why’d ya do it?”

“He could’ve gotten someone killed, maybe another police officer! Did you want that on your conscience?” Vic shouted and then dropped her arms to her sides. “I’m tired of fighting with you about this. I did it, ok! I turned him in to save lives and then your pal Gorski decided to torment me until I left. That should have been the happiest day for you. A rat cop wouldn’t be around.” Vic spat at Vincent. “Maybe you’d only be happy if he killed me and dumped my body in the river.” She wanted to add insult to injury, to shame her brother for his actions towards her. It was always hard coming from a family of cops. 

“Viccy,” Vincent drew out her name. “We may not always like each other, but I would never want you dead. Gorski doesn’t stalk my baby sister and get away with it. I’m bringing the full weight of the law crashing down on his head however I can.” When he spoke, he wanted her to believe him. It was part of why he came out here. He had to make things right with Victoria. 

Leaning over the desk, Michaels spoke in a low voice to Longmire, “Are you going to step in…?” He’d known the Moretti family for years; grew up on the same block as Victoria and Vincent, as well as the three other brothers. Where they became cops like their father, he’d become a lawyer. It wasn’t enough for him to catch criminals. He wanted to put them away for as long as the law would let him.

“It’s better to let her yell.” Walt answered. The more Vic got off her chest in regards to her brother, the less likely she’d be to hold him to his promise. He didn’t care if she punched her brother, he just didn’t want her to hurt her hand. She was already in enough pain with her knee.

“That’s what you think.” Raphael scoffed. Victoria was feisty and she had to always prove that she was tough enough to be a cop like her brothers, like her father and uncles. He’d once seen her deck another teen when they were high school for simply calling her a ‘Girl’. The Sheriff just looked at him. Feeling that things had to be taken back to the topic at hand, Raphe stepped in, “Victoria, I’m here to get your statement, to use it as evidence. It would just be one more nail in his coffin.” 

Vic looked away from her brother, turning her attention to Raphael. “Lawyer looks good on you.” She said. “None of what I can tell you can be proven, except for what happened here in Wyoming, but Gorski left before he could be brought up on charges.” There was no harm in fudging certain details about why he really left. 

“We can set up and argument for previous behavior. If we can show he did it once, he’ll do it again; which he has.” Raphael argued. “Using your statement of facts, and possibly having you give a taped deposition, we can enter it into evidence that Gorski shouldn’t be allowed out, that he needs to be incarcerated for the safety of the public.”

“He must have stalked someone with a lot juice to get this kind of heat.” Vic commented. Once again she was balling her hands into fists. Her knee was starting to quiver. She wouldn’t be able to keep standing on it for much longer, not without falling and that would be embarrassing in from of her brother. 

“The Mayor’s 29 year old daughter.” Vincent answered. “He’s stepped up his routine this time. Ed’s added assault to his repertoire.” 

“That doesn’t make sense.” Vic was confused. “He fixates on women who are his equals in some way. Gorki gets off on danger.”

“The woman, she’s former army. She was honorably discharged when her husband was killed in action. She was the only left to care for their daughter.” Vincent handed over a brief overview of the case to his sister. 

Vic flipped the file open seeing in vivid detail just what happened. “He did this to her?” It reminded her of how Ed looked in the hospital after Hector paid him a visit.

“As bad as she looks in those photos, she’s still standing. He got a good thrashing in return.” Vincent replied. “What’s that look for?”

Vc had a moment where she could lie through her teeth, but she glanced at Walt and knew he was thinking the same thing. “This looks like what happened to Ed when he was here in Wyoming. I paid a man named Hector to beat him up, to scare him out of the state. For a while it worked.” If there was one thing that had gotten stronger in her, it was the ability to tell the truth. That was because of Walt.

“What? Is that the kind of police work you’ve learned to do here in hillbilly hell?” Vincent snapped. 

“Hey!” Vic growled. She was hoping that Walt was going to hold up his promise. There was a powerful need in her to plant her fist in Vincent’s face at this very moment.

Walt took a small step to place himself between Vic and her brother while addressing the ADA. “When would you want Vic to make her statement cause we have a prisoner to transport over to county to wait for arraignment.”

“We can do it this afternoon.” Raphael answered eager to get this over with.

“Tomorrow would be better. It’s a four hour drive over to county jail.” Walt answered. He wanted to get Vic out of the office, and he had to get her out of there now. 

Taking her lead from Walt, Vic nodded handing the file back to Vincent. “Yeah, you’ll have to wait and hear all the details of Ed’s past offenses against me tomorrow.” With renewed strength fueled by her anger at her brother, Vic walked out of the Sheriff’s office going to her desk where her coat waited, the bullet hole patched up with white thread. Now her coat and Walt’s matched. 

Vincent wasn’t about to let Victoria get away from him this time. “I wanted to come here and try to patch things up between us.” He admitted. 

“Yeah, sure.” Vic shook her head. “If that’s what you really wanted. Why’d you drag mom out here?”

 

RED PONY:  
TWO MONTHS AGO

 

It was nearing 10pm, but the Red Pony was still packed with patrons. Walt watched the people, feeling very much at home here, and happy that he could be out at a bar with Vic and no one would think twice of it even though they weren’t there as Sheriff and Deputy. They were having dinner, and they were calling it a date. Vic had gone to the restroom a few minutes ago leaving him alone at the bar where Henry was hovering close by waiting for the right moment to continue their conversation. “If you wanna ask something, do it. Don’t hover like a little old lady.” Walt snapped jovially. He thought he would be nervous out in a social setting like this with Vic, but she somehow managed to put him at ease. There was no need to impress her, she’d already seen him at his very worst. Plus, she’d seen him bloody and shot up on occasion. Vic still wanted to be with him after all that. 

“Now that is an image.” Henry commented placing his hands on the bar. The two brunette’s he had been conversing with had left hours ago much to his regret, but he was lucky enough to get a phone number. “Your soul seems lighter.” Henry stated gaining an eye roll from Walt. For a few years he had to stand idly by while is best friend slipped further into darkness and despondency over what happened to Martha. Now there was Vic, she was bringing him out of the turmoil. She was mending his fractured heart. “When did you and Vic…?”

Walt Longmire was not a man to kiss and tell, but sometimes that rule didn’t apply to his best friend. He and Henry had known each other since they’d been in 6th grade. “Two weeks ago,” came his reply. “It just hit us, I guess.” How else was he to explain it? There had been no tension, no heightened awareness of each other. He hadn’t been extra focused on her, nor she him. One minute they were going over evidence, talking possible motives, and the next her hand was resting on his. She was looking at him in that gentle way she did when they were alone. He wanted to know, at least once, what the taste of her lips were like. Walt had leaned in and kissed her.

“I would have thought you would have made a move earlier.” Henry remarked. He could still see them coming into his bar, they were bloodied, and they were annoyed. Vic had gotten a rag from behind the bar, a bottle of vodka, doused the cloth, and it to the side of Walt’s head while he had a shot of whiskey in his hand. Henry had never seen Walt let anyone attempt to clean him up until Vic had, and his friend had let her. From that moment, it was only a matter of time before they realized it for themselves. 

Walt was about to reply when he saw Vic cutting through the crowd. She’d taken off her uniform shirt and replaced it with a simple black v-neck t-shirt. Her hair was free from the pony tail to frame her face. The soft glow of the lights made her hair look like gold as she came closer to him. His eyes were on her, and her alone. Vic stepped between him and her barstool staying there for a few minutes. “Feel better?” Walt asked, his right hand slid over her hip pulling her in against him. Vic placed her hands on his chest. There were too many people in the Red Pony tonight, no one would be paying much attention to them.

“Yeah,” Vic rested her hands on Walt’s chest loving the feeling of his hand possessively on her hip. This was a thrill to have him touch her in such a personal manner while there was a room full of people around them. Her fingers dug into his shirt. If they hadn’t had that second beer she would suggest that they go back to his cabin, but that would be irresponsible for at least another hour. “Want to play a game?” She asked, her head motioning over to the empty pool table.

“Stakes?” Walt asked. He knew neither one of them could safely drive for another hour or so. Playing her in a game of pool would be a great way to kill time. This was one of the few times they were spending outside of work, neither of them were on call, and they could just be together.

“Winner picks…” Vic glanced at Henry, and then leaned in to whisper in Walt’s ear, “where we spend the night.”

“You got yourself a deal.” Walt said letting his hand drop from Vic’s hip.

Vic set the rack, placed the cue ball, and took position with her pool cue in hand. She could see Walt watching her from his place at the opposite end of the table. With a wicked smile on her lips, she took aim. Her shot sank the 8 and 5 balls. The 1 ball bounced off the inside rail while the cue ball was resting next to the blue 2 ball. It still being her turn, Vic angled her shot to hit the rail and ricochet towards the yellow 1 ball. That had been her intent, but she missed. Unfortunately for her, she set the next shot up perfectly for Walt. 

“Nice break.” Walt commented, setting up his shot. He pulled the cue back, took aim, and fired the cue ball towards the 1. It sank neatly in the center pocket on the inside rail. Walt moved around the table to set up his next shot, all while being aware of where Vic was standing. She was watching him intently, waiting for him to miss. He was going to have to disappoint her. The blue 2 ball followed suit. Then in a timely fashion the 3 and 4 were cleared from the table. The 6 was in his sights when Vic stood next to him, her hand reached out and caressed his thigh. Walt missed the 6 shot. “That was naughty.” He said with amusement in his voice.

“You didn’t think I was going to make it easy for you did you?” Vic laughed. With ease she took the 6 and 7 from the table all the while waiting to see if Walt would pull a dirty trick and get her to miss. The nine ball was all hers. She lined up her shot and it just so happened to be right where Walt was standing. Because she was in a wickedly naughty mood, Vic took her shot, and laughed when Walt jumped back a step. “I win!” She announced. 

“Not yet you don’t.” Walt replied reaching for the rack. “We have two more games to play. Best of three.” There was a fiery look in her eyes that told him she wasn’t interested in spending time playing two more games. Neither was he.

“Damn.” Vic blew out a breath. “You would have been happy with my choice.” She set the cue back in the wall holder going to stand next to Walt. “I want to go to your place.” He looked at her as he set the 9 ball in the center. Vic bit her bottom lip and nodded in answer to the question in his eyes. He abandoned the table, leading them back to the bar where their coats waited for them. Walt paid the bar bill, and they were heading out to the parking lot where his Bronco and her truck waited. 

 

TO BE CONTINUED:


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is an M rated moment in this chapter.

CLOSURE:

WALT’S BRONCO:  
PRESENT

 

The four hour drive to the county jail had been made in silence, which suited Walt. It gave him time to process all that had happened that morning from having breakfast with Vic, to watching her face off against her brother. He had to watch her stand tall and face him down without so much as flinching. Walt had felt so much loving pride for her, but was careful to keep his emotions hidden behind his Sheriff’s veneer. Now, the prisoner had been dropped off, charges filed, and they were headed back to town. “Want to talk about it?” Walt asked, casually glancing over at her. She had her right elbow braced on the door, and her cheek resting on her fist. Vic didn’t look to be in a chatty mood. The tension brewing between them, it was that of anger at the situation, annoyance that her family came here to Durant more than anything. He didn’t want to get involved too much unless she asked him to.

“Talk?” Vic muttered. “Nope, talking wouldn’t do any good. Because what I really want to do is scream.” She knocked the back of her head against the head rest out of frustration. The morning had started out so good, too. “I want to rant, to rave, maybe punch something. I want to throttle my brother for even thinking that bring my mother here was a good idea. The fact that she’s here is going to make my life, what little bit of peace I’ve managed to cobble together, will be turned upside down. She has this annoying way of pointing out everything that she thinks I’ve done wrong, she pokes and prods at me, and then she acts shocked when I blow up at her. She judges me more than my brothers.” Vic sighed. “Screaming is the best option I have right now.”

“I guess that’s better than wanting to punch your brother.” Walt mused. He wasn’t sure what he could offer up as a proper response. The relationship between mother and daughter could be complicated. He knew from experience. There were times that Cady, when she was a teenager, and Martha could go to war with each other, that to Walt seemed to last for days, but in reality it was a handful of hours. The tension was the worst thing that could exist in a household. It was probably why he remained quiet most of the time.

“Oh no, I still want to punch him, just for different reasons this time.” Vic replied squeezing his jean covered thigh to let him know that she was doing ok now. For now they were on a long drive back to town, she didn’t want to dwell on thing until she had to. Avoidance was a Moretti specialty, that and denial. So she focused her unease into another subject they’ve been avoiding. “Spoken to Cady?” She could still hear Cady’s exclamations ringing her ears. The relationship between Walt and Cady was a strong one, but when something happened to shake it up, it took time for them put things back together.

Walt shifted in his seat at Vic’s question. The last time he’d seen his daughter had been two weeks ago at the Red Pony; Henry watching from a safe distance. He’d told her about his fragile relationship with Vic, how it started, and that he was going to tell her when he knew where it was all going. Cady hadn’t said anything, not even to scold him for not locking his front door. Six weeks ago, Cady had come over in the morning while he and Vic had been on the couch to find them together. “No.” He answered. It was definitely a morning that was burned into his brain, and not because Vic had been naked in his arms. The one saving grace was that Cady hadn’t showed up ten minutes earlier. 

“Maybe you should call her when we get back to the station.” Vic suggested. She was going to face her brother, her mother, and she wanted to do that without Walt. There were sides to her that she didn’t want him to see, not when he’d caught a glimpse it already this morning in his office when she was faced with her brother. Vic loved her family, she just didn’t always like them. Coming out here, working with Walt, somehow she felt she was becoming a better person.

“Are you trying to keep me away from your family?” Walt asked. His question was meant to be light hearted, but there was an edge of seriousness to it all the same. It shouldn’t have cut at him, shouldn’t have bothered that she was trying to keep him away. 

“You’ve seen me at pretty dark time, being stalked, but you’ve never seen me with my family. I’m not a likable person when I’m with them.” Vic said quietly. “My family isn’t like what you have with Cady. Our main form of communication is shouting at each other. I love my family, I love my brothers, but sometimes I just wish we did a little more talking and a lot less judging.”

“Cady and I have shouted at each other.” Walt informed Vic. Though, the last time that happened had been when Fales had gone to Cady’s house to talk about Martha’s murder. That had been a secret he would have kept from his beloved daughter for eternity if he’d had his way. The day Cady confronted him about Martha’s murder was the worst day of his life. He couldn’t see, at the time, how she would ever speak to him again after he kept the truth from her, even though it had been the last time Martha had asked him to do.

“Not like the Moretti family.” Vic looked at Walt. “We yell; it’s all we do.” There was another plus side to staying in Wyoming. She didn’t have to shout just to be heard in her family. “I can tell you the first words out of my mother’s mouth. She’s going to want to know why I haven’t packed my bags and come back to Philadelphia after my divorce from Sean. There would be no way she’d understand my wanting to stay.” Walt wasn’t the only reason Wyoming was appealing. Yes, she longed for a faster pace of life, the hardened streets of her beloved Philly home, but out here, she had peace. That would be something she wasn’t bound to give up easily. “I’m actually happy here, Walt. Going home is appealing, but I don’t have the desire.”

“You know, that’s the second time I heard you say that today.” Walt took his eyes from the road for a second so he could look at her, so he could see the flash of a smile she had gracing her lips. She’d screamed at her brother that she liked where she was, but he figured it was just in the heat of the moment and he’d never hear her admit it again. Twice in one day was music to his ears. 

Vic smiled a real smile for Walt. “It’s true. Despite Gorski finding me here, Sean divorcing me, and everything else in between, I managed to find some measure of personal peace. Most of it’s because of you.” She now knew coming here wasn’t random, not even because this was where Sean’s work wanted him to be. Vic had a feeling the universe, if she really did believe in that stuff, brought her to Durant to find a way to live in happiness while still clashing with quiet slow pace of the town. Sometimes, she would never admit this to Walt, the down time was just what was needed after working some of the murder cases that came up.

Walt cleared his throat, “Since we’re uh… confessing here, being with you has helped…” He shifted in his seat. “I’m able to feel again.” It started the day he met her, then over time it grew stronger. At first Walt rationalized it that he had this need to protect her. He was the Sheriff after all, it was his job. Then that night, facing off against Chance Gilbert, Walt knew that there was more to his feelings for Vic. He was willing to give his life for her. Watching her being driven off by, their eyes never leaving each other, had made him determined to come back to her. Just as she’d come back for him, in his truck, and she’d gotten him to the hospital. 

“Glad I’m not just a pain in the ass for you,” Vic was half joking, but she was also half serious. She knew she was more trouble than she was worth most days. She shot her mouth off, picked fights, and from time to time made questionable choices. Hiring Hector to beat up Ed had been one of those question choices made out of desperation.

“Well, yeah, you are that too.” Walt chuckled. He enjoyed how they could take a moment’s pause from serious conversations to have little moments of humor unique to who they were. 

“Gee, thanks Walt.” Vic rolled her eyes. “But at least I’m your pain in the ass.” She added laughing lightly. 

“Yes, you are,” Walt agreed. “You do know that if things get to intense with your family….”

“I can come to you?” Vic asked, turned in her seat. Walt was keeping his eyes on the road. “I know I can, and there’s a pretty good chance that I may show up tonight. Hopefully I won’t be bloody.” The last time she’d had a fight with Vincent, it had resulted in a knock down drag out complete with bloody noses, busted lips, and black eyes. They hadn’t spoken to each other for a month after that fight. 

“Don’t joke about that Vic.” Walt lightly scolded. He was reminded of the time he’d gone to Denver for revenge. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her reach out, her hand resting on the back of his neck lightly squeezing in comfort. 

 

TWO MONTHS AGO:

 

Four in the morning was a normal wake up time for any rancher, farmer, or cattle driver in Wyoming. Walt had been awake a few hours before, with most of that time he spent staring at a sleeping Vic beside him. She was asleep on her side, hugging the pillow to her with strands of blonde hair falling across her face. Even now, a satisfied smile crossed his lips as he sat on the couch in his faded blue jeans. His skin was still tingling from the feel of her against him, he could still taste her on his tongue. Walt shifted slightly, his body responding to the memories of sharing his bed with Vic, of her hot skin, her nails digging into his shoulders. Walt felt the way she moved with him, the way she fought him showing she wasn’t submissive. He liked feeling her on top. A growl rumbled in his chest as his head fell back, his eyes fluttering closed.

Vic had only be lightly dozing off and on through the night. When she woke up, the bed was empty next to her. Sitting up she saw the light coming from the living room; the flickering of the flames in the fireplace. She got out of bed, picking up Walt’s blue long sleeved shirt that he wore all the time. Shrugging into it, she buttoned the bottom three buttons and opened the door to see Walt on the couch, his head tilted back with a telltale bulge forming in the front of his jeans. She took a moment to watch him, watch the way his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. “I really hope you’re thinking about me.” Vic purred calling attention to herself. He looked at her, his eyes unfocused. She walked over to Walt until she was standing before him. He sat up, his hands reaching out to rest on her hips where he guided her astride his lap. Vic went willingly, eagerly parting her thighs feeling him against her. She placed her hands on his chest, fingers curling lightly into the hair that covered his flesh.

“I was thinking about the way your nails dug into my shoulders when you came.” Walt rubbed his hands up and down Vic’s abdomen. He took a second to pull the shirt apart bearing her body to the flickering fire, to the soft glow of the one lamp he’d turned on. The buttons pulled apart with light pops leaving Walt to suck in a breath at the sight of her. But he wasn’t going to rush this, wasn’t going to act like a fumbling teenager. Once more he placed his hands to her hips. “I was thinking about the way you moved.” Walt leaned into her, his lips kissing the underside of her chin. Gently, he rubbed his hands back and forth, the palm of his left hand feeling the scar on her side. “I’ve been wanting to ask about this scar.”

Vic dropped her hand to cover Walt’s. “I was shot on the job responding to a burglary in progress. One of the suspects saw me, shot twice. The first bullet missed me, but the second caught me right in the side. I lucked out on that one.” She gripped his hand as she finished speaking. Vic looked down watching the way his thumb ran back and forth over the pale five year old scar. Whenever Sean would touch it, she would flinch momentarily, but with Walt. There was no need to pull away from his touch. She took her hand placing it on his left bicep where his latest bullet wound was healed. As he was doing to her, she ran her thumb back and forth over the wound that he’d only gotten because of her.

Walt knew what she was thinking. “A little needle and thread, and I’m ok.” He said, this time about himself and not the jacket he’d mended. Events of that day would be with them for a while. “I’ve probably been mended more times than a quilt.” Walt lightly joked hoping to draw a smile from Vic. She gave in after resisting for a few seconds, bringing her hands up to cup his face before her lips pressed to his. The sweetness of her kiss had fire rolling though him once more. He wanted her again, wanted to be inside her, to feel the way she moved, and the way she conquered him.

Vic turned the gentle kiss into something with a bit more passion; her tongue running along the seam of his lips until he opened for her. She raised up on her knees, changing the angle of the kiss, deepening it while her hands busied themselves with the button and zipper of his jeans. The lowered zipper hissed loudly between them. Vic broke the kiss, she wanted to look into his eyes, wanted to feel the way his finger dug into the back of her thighs as she took him into her body once more. Holding him in her hand, feeling him hard, seeing the want in his eyes stole her breath away.

Walt had a second to take a breath before he felt the wet heat of Vic’s body taking him inside her once more. His jaw dropped, his heart rate started to increase the lower she went almost taking all of him. He wanted to let his head fall back, let his eyes close, only he couldn’t. Vic lightly held his jaw so his gaze would stay with hers, so he could see the way her eyes fired with desire. Walt moaned as the last inch of him was welcomed into the warmth that was Vic’s most intimate embrace. She would have started to move, but he held her, “Don’t move yet.” He whispered leaning his head down to kiss the space of flesh between her thumb and index finger. 

Vic had a moment where she wasn’t going to do as he asked, but her body obeyed his words where her mind wanted to rebel. She stayed still against him, the soft denim of his jeans pressed against her backside. There was even the small bite of his zipper to the inside of her thigh. It wasn’t pain and it bit into her in just that right way that had her moaning in pleasure rather than squirming in discomfort. She set her hands to his shoulders, letting the tips of her fingers trace their way down his bicep’s, his forearms, and finally wrapping around his wrists where his hands were at her hips. Walt gently guided her hips back, showing her the motion he wanted her to go in. Vic needed no other encouragement. Her body followed his direction feeling him move inside her, hitting all the right spots.

Walt held Vic’s his as she increased her pace, but he stopped guiding her. Even in this she couldn’t be told what to do. She added a little twist to her hips that had him growling in primal male satisfaction. Her hands left his wrists, her palms came to rest on his chest with her fingers digging lightly into his skin. He brought his up to cup the side of her neck so he could pull her down; he wanted to the taste of her on his tongue as she rode him. With each pleasurable tormenting pass of her hips, the way her inner muscles gripped him, Walt could feel himself coming closer to that edge of release.

Vic could feel it in the way Walt tensed beneath her; he was close, and so was she. Her body was alive with so much sensation from the way Walt was kissing her, the passionate way he dominated her mouth while she claimed his body, and the way he filled her, hitting all the right spots when she moved. Vic had to fight to keep pace, to prolong this when all she really wanted was to ride him hard and fast until they were both coming in mindless abandon. She gave in, letting her body have its way. Her pace quickened, back and forth she rocked with an added little twist to finish them. The tone of the kiss shifted when she did. Walt bit her bottom lip. When she pulled back there was a wicked little gleam in his eye; almost a payback for when she had bitten him the first time. 

Walt tried to hang on, hadn’t meant to sink his teeth into her lip, but the way she reacted was worth it. It had excited Vic. She took his hands, lacing their fingers, and she pinned his hands above his head. This was the climax they were looking for. He sucked in a breath when she moved, when she ground down on him, and his body was there. She sealed her lips to his, their moans filling each other as they quivered together. Walt could hardly focus on one sensation out of the hundred bombarding his brain from Vic’s nails digging into the back of hands, to the way she was so tight on him. All of it was hard to separate in head. He could only sit there, let his body feel her, feel the release racing through his blood. 

Vic rested her forehead to Walt’s, her breathing had somehow synced to his as aftershock wracked her body. They had only had sex four times in the last two weeks, and each time it left her breathless, left her mind on the fritz; hardly able to process what this amazing feeling was running through her, or how no one else except Walt Longmire could provoke such a passionate response from her. Somehow, Vic didn’t know how, she was able to let go of Walt’s hands, and they fell lifeless at her side. The muscles in her thighs were quaking, and if she tried to move, she wouldn’t get very far. It was safer to stay where she was. Walt wrapped his arms around her sensing what she was thinking. The fire was still going, it was nice and warm; she was comfortable enough to fall back asleep.

 

PRESENT:  
RED PONY

 

Walt sat at the bar with Cady as she picked at her dinner. They had barely made eye contact through the last hour. It made him feel a little awkward to be like this with her. “You haven’t said much.” He said angling his body to look at her. “You ok, Punk?” That morning would be one for the record books. Vic was making jokes, deflecting her embarrassment, Walt was shocked into silence, and Cady. He couldn’t believe that Cady walked in on them like that. 

“Yeah,” Cady shoved her plate away a little bit. “I’ve been trying to wrap my head around it all.” She turned to face her dad, trying to meet his eyes, but when she did, all she could see was Vic. “I… uh….” She bit her bottom lip. “Dad, I see the way you look at Vic when think no one can see you.” There really wasn’t much more for them to talk about. Cady had to work on not seeing Vic in a different way, which given how much of Vic she’d actually seen, that was going to take a while.

“What do you mean?” Walt asked. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer.

“You look at her like your life is fresh and new again.” Cady said. “Like you feel again. Does she make you happy?” When she got right down to it, that’s all Cady wanted for her dad. She wanted him to find some measure of happiness in his life so he could begin to heal from the murder of her mother. 

“Yeah,” Walt nodded, “She does. I don’t how it happened, or why it did, but I’m glad it was Vic.” He thought he’d had some measure of feeling for Lizzie through their ‘relationship’; he guessed that was the word for it. She’d been persistent in her pursuit of him. It had made Walt nervous, and frankly he’d been downright prickly when Vic had teased him about it. 

“Then, that’s all that matters to me.” Cady said wishing she had said that two weeks ago when they had tried to talk about it then. It was a conversation she hadn’t been ready to have, not when the scene of them on the couch together still played out in her mind. “I don’t think I can look Vic in the eyes just yet.” She chuckled gaining a smile from her father.

“I don’t know how you look me in the eye.” Walt joked back.

“Oh, I’m not… yet.” Cady rested her hand on her dads arm, squeezing gently. “That’s what I get for just walking in without knocking.” She laughed. The scene was still burned into her brain. Cady mainly got an eyeful of Vic, the shirt she had been wearing was down around her waist. She’d seen Vic’s torso, and her abdomen. 

Walt was about to say something to Cady when his attention was drawn to the entrance of the Red Pony where he saw Vic walk in. She was in plain cloths, t-shirt, jeans, her boots, and that brown leather jacket he loved to see on her. Something in him softened when he laid eyes on her, just as it did every other time she walked into a room he was in. Was this what Cady meant? Did he really look at her differently? Could people see it as clearly as his daughter did?

Cady took that moment to look at her dad’s face. It was as she thought, his features had softened, and his eyes sparkled with renewed life. This was the look of happiness, at least what happy for her dad could look like. She imagined she had this same look when she would look at Branch. When she let herself look at Branch. Cady followed her dad’s gaze and saw Vic, but there were three strangers; two men and an older woman. “Who are they?”

Walt sighed looking at Cady. “They tall guy, that’s an ADA, the second male is Vic’s brother.”

“Vic has a brother?” Cady asked looking at her dad in surprise. “I didn’t know that.”

“She doesn’t talk about them much.” Walt replied. As much as he wanted to know about them, he took Vic at her word that her oldest brother wasn’t worth getting to know. He didn’t like how he treated Vic.

“I can see why.” Cady muttered. “Those three are not happy with each other.” She observed, their body language said it all, screamed it really. Vic had her arms crossed over her chest; a stance shared by her brother and the older woman. “Is that Vic’s mom?” Cady asked with keen interest.

“I assume so.” Walt answered trying his hardest not to stare at Vic when all he wanted to do was watch her walk towards him. 

“You haven’t met her yet?” Cady asked. It was a general question, loaded, but general none the less. She looked back over at them to see them take a table. Only Vic remained standing.

“I spent all day keeping Vic out of the office and away from her family.” Walt replied. “So, no, I haven’t yet. She didn’t really want me to be around them really.” He lifted the bottle of beer to his lips. Walt had to force himself to stay where he was, to keep his place as the Sheriff. Even thought, at this moment, seeing her body riddled with tension, made that hard enough. He wanted to go to her, to pull her outside, into his Bronco, and wrap his arms around her. Walt could tell that she was nearly at the end of her rope. He’d seen that look once before, when she was sitting next to him confessing to the brutal assault of Gorski. 

“Why not?” Cady asked out of curiosity.

“Walt muttered, “Ask Vic.” He chuckled when his daughter made a face. 

Vic needed a break, which also meant she needed a strong drink. There was no alcohol in her house where she had spent the last two hours being grilled by Raphael and intermitted fighting with Vincent with periodic sarcastic comments from her mother. Finally, she’d had enough and told them all to get in her truck. The Red Pony was the first place she thought of, and the tiny glimmer of hope that Walt would be there. All the question Raphe had been asking her drudged up emotions she’d been able to keep on lock down for years. Seeing Walt at the end of the bar, Cady by his side, helped to steady her. He was even drinking from his favorite beer. 

Cady couldn’t help but smile as she watched Vic walk over, seemingly abandoning her family to the atmosphere of the Red Pony. She whispered some excuse, making her momentary escape so she could watch her dad and Vic from the other side of the bar where Henry was studying the others that had come in with Vic. Cady looked at her god father, her Cheyenne Father, and couldn’t help but feel great relief that he was free. For a while there, during her valiant attempt at being his attorney, she had a sliver of fear that she would fail. Her dad, Henry, they never doubted her. It was that utter certainty that helped her succeed, as well as some advice from a former Law School friend that helped.

Henry could see Cady watching him, like she did every time she was here lately. Leaning his hands on the bar, he whispered to her, “You are doing it again.” She looked away hiding knowing smirk. He knew why she did it. Henry was free instead of in jail and the real person responsible for her mother’s death, for the near downfall of her father, had one foot in the grave already. Barlow Connally had set the wheels in motion to take down Walt and place his own son in the seat of the towns Sheriff. Thinking about it now, it made Henry clench his hands in anger. 

“I know,” Cady sighed taking a seat in front of him. “I can’t help it. It’s just good to know that everything worked out, but…” Her face clearly gave voice to her concern for Branch. He was just off of suspension, his dad, unscrupulous bastard that he was, remained in the hospital hanging on by a slender thread. 

“Branch is a grown man, Cady.” Henry stated. He still had trouble liking the man whom Cady had given her heart to.

“I know,” Cady said again looking down the bar where Vic stood next to her dad. It was a nice sight to see him with a genuine smile on his face that wasn’t just because of her. 

Henry looked in the same direction, “It is good to see him happy again.” Too much time has gone by for Walt to stay locked in his guilt. Henry knew the day Vic arrived, was the day Walt would begin to live again. It just took his friend a little longer to realize it. 

“Yeah, it is.” Cady nodded. 

Down the bar Walt slide his arm across the edge of the bar top until his fingers could touch the edge of Vic’s hand. She didn’t take her eyes from his as he did this, the connection of their gaze making the moment last longer. Vic turned her hand over, his fingertips touching her palm, and thus completing the current of electricity that seemed to run between them whenever they were together. She was a live wire that he could somehow manage to ground on occasion. “I see they’re still in one piece.” He muttered, trying to distract himself from the all-consuming need he carried to be touching her.

Vic bit her bottom lip the moment Walt’s hand touched hers. How was it he had such an effect on her? Right now, more than anything she needed to be calmed down, and Walt was doing that with his touch alone. His hand resting against her, their flesh touching, his outwardly stoic nature bled into her. Vic took a moment to breathe in, smelling his beer, the remnants of his fries, and the scent that was uniquely Walt filled her lungs. She breathed out and answered him, “Yeah, I needed a good stiff drink.” Or maybe she just needed to run away.

Walt could see there was something Vic wasn’t saying, she had this haunted look in her eyes. Much the same look she had when she told him about Gorski for the first time. “What’s going on?” She looked down at their hands, avoiding his eyes. Now, he definitely knew something was wrong. Her hand tensed in his, she was fighting to keep something from him. Walt knew not to push Vic, she had to open up when she was ready. She may not have many scars visible on her body, but knew they were there on her soul, on her heart. 

Vic glanced back to Walt, she trusted him enough to talk about things she kept buried. He made her feel safe while he made her feel strong at the same time. “It’s just all the questions Raphe is grilling me with, they’re bringing up a lot of things, a lot of emotions I’ve tried to bury.” She answered him as truthfully as she could, given where they were sitting with so many people around them. Then, her back stiffened and she took her hand from his losing the connection she had when she sensed someone was coming closer.

Elizabeth Moretti saw her daughter walk towards the end of the bar to talk to a man that Vincent had described to her as being Sheriff Walt Longmire. She was curious about the motivation behind Victoria’s choice to remain in Wyoming when she was free to return to her home, Philadelphia. Leaving her son, and Raphael at the table, she threaded her way through the people, stopping short when Victoria’s body language changed. “Victoria, why don’t you introduce us.” Elizabeth smiled at the Sheriff.

Vic closed her eyes, her lips pressing tightly together as if she was trying in vain to keep whatever acerbic comment to herself while she nodded. “Mom, this is Walt, who I’m sure Vincent already told you is my boss, and the Sheriff.” Opening her eyes when she felt Walt stand, his body close to her, she said to him, “Walt, this is my mother, Elizabeth Moretti.”

Walt stood up, inclined his head toward Vic’s mom, and said, “It’s a pleasure ma’am.” It was then he caught Vic’s eye roll. Later, he knew there would be time for explanations. At this moment, he was only her boss, not her lover, even though when all he wanted to do was wrap his arm possessively around her waist.

“I’m sure my daughter has told you next to nothing about me.” Elizabeth meant the comment as a joke, but she could see the way her daughter recoiled at the remark. 

“Haven’t really had time, what with solving murders and all.” Vic commented dryly. During the span of time she left Walt at the station, and coming here, her mother had asked her repeatedly if she was seeing someone. Vic had refused to answer, not she was regretting the choice not to lie through her teeth. 

“I can remember a time when I could get whole sentences out of my daughter, drenched in sarcasm as they have been.” Elizabeth commented. “Maybe you can help me with something Sheriff. Can you tell me why any sensible city raised woman wouldn’t come back home to a place she’s known all her life now that she has the chance?”

Walt didn’t know what he should say to answer that question designed to draw information from him. He was still standing close to Vic when he felt her hand touch his thigh, her fingers digging in to warn him away from answering. Like he needed the warning. Silence was what he was known for, and silence was what he was going to stick while making sure his face was an unreadable mask.

“Oh, my god, ma!” Vic turned. “Really? You have do this now? Here?” She snapped. “I live here now. Deal with it. I’m not going to come running back home, you’re not going to cajole me into taking Raphael out on a date.” She had been dealing with this for the past two hours and she’d had enough. “Why do you think my boss is going to be able to tell you why I don’t want to come home?” Behind her she felt Walt stiffen at her words. She was definitely going to pay for her angry words later on.

“You are a Philly girl, born and bred. It’s where you belong.” Elizabeth was trying to understand why her daughter was resisting moving back to her home town. She knew that they never had a close relationship, especially from the moment Victoria entered the Police Academy. “I just want to understand.” 

Vic shook her head, taking a step away from Walt, away from the calming effect he had over her, “And you won’t.” She said quietly. 

“You’re seeing someone, aren’t you?” Elizabeth asked. “It’s the only reason you would be acting this way, resisting coming home.”

“Can’t I just want to stay here? Why does it have to be a man?” Vic shook her head, even though the man standing behind her was the specific reason she was staying put in Wyoming. Not to mention the immeasurable sense of self peace she had here. “Philly is not the place I can be anymore.”

“And whose fault is that?” Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

“Right, yes! I asked to get stalked, wore a sign around my neck inviting Gorski to make my life a living hell.” Vic shouted. The last time, before she and Sean left Philadelphia, she and her mother had had this exact same argument. Her mother deceptively laying the blame squarely at Vic’s feet; Bobby’s death, Ed stalking her, the fact she had to transfer precinct’s. She was tired of being blamed. 

“If you hadn’t started sleeping with a married man in the first place….”Elizabeth pointed out as she’d done all the other times they talked about this particular subject. 

“You know what?” Vic went very still standing in front of her mother. “Find your own way back to town.” She left her mother standing in front of Walt. If she didn’t go outside now she would say something she would really regret later on down the road. Vic didn’t look back as her anger propelled her towards the door and out into the cold night. She wasn’t going to be the first to break, she refused to be weak. Vic battled back the tears from her anger with all the strength she had until she could be alone. The cold night air hit her face, stealing her breath, and then she saw Walt’s truck. Hers was less appealing at the moment. Pretty soon Walt would be outside, she’d wait by his vehicle until he came out.

Walt grabbed his hat and coat, hurrying after Vic before she could make good on her threat, leaving the Red Pony. At this point he didn’t care how his actions were perceived by others. The ones who needed to know what Vic meant to him, knew why he was following her, the rest. Well, Walt didn’t care right now. Setting foot out in the parking lot he saw her neon red highlighted blonde head over by his Bronco and not her truck. Semi relief washed through him seeing her standing there and now watching her tail lights speeding off down the road. As he got closer he could see tears falling down her face. This wasn’t like Vic, she hardly cried when facing someone, in this case her mother, head on. Closing the distance between them he lifted her face up so she was looking in his eyes. That day in the ER flashed through his mind when she was with him, his coat and hat in her hands. On that day she cried in his arms. “Come here.” Walt muttered pulling Vic to him.

Vic went willing into Walt’s arm feeling battered emotionally. Everything was taking her to a dark place she didn’t want to be in, not when Walt wasn’t there to help pull her back. She wrapped her arms around his waist under her coat to feel all of his warmth that she could get. “You shouldn’t have had to see that.” Vic muttered, her cheek against his chest where she could feel the faint beat of his heart. “She just makes me so mad, and she can’t….” She shook her head. “These tears are because I’m really pissed off.” The explanation wasn’t needed because Walt hadn’t asked. He wouldn’t unless she was ready to answer him. That was one of the reasons she loved him. Vic felt her heart beat faster at that realization. She knew she had strong feelings for him, but she had never called it love; not until this moment. “Take me home…”

 

VIC’S HOUSE:

 

Walt sat on Vic’s sofa noticing the black leather had the same amount of comfort as the couch at his cabin. She was pacing back and forth in a tight line, her arms crossed across her chest. They hadn’t spoke on the drive back here. Vic had hit the car lock button on her keys and then hopped in the cab of his truck. Walt hadn’t argued, wouldn’t argue with her at this point. She’d had enough of it with her mother. Vic had been right about that too. She said he didn’t want to see what she was like when she was with them, and it was a side that he didn’t think her capable of. Walt had seen Vic angry, mischievous, he’d seen her laughing, happy, and he’d seen her when she was at a low point painted into a corner. He was going to wait until she was ready to talk.

Vic knew Walt was being patient with her while she was trying to wrap her head around what it was she was going to tell him. It meant coming completely clean about the last time she saw Ed Gorski in Philly. It was something she hadn’t even told Sean. Enough with the pacing, Vic sat down facing Walt. “Tonight, Raphe was questioning me about things that happened with Ed. Like when I met him, how long before we started the affair, how it ended, and when was the last time I saw him.” She rubbed her palms up and down her thighs. “It just brought up a lot of things that I’d managed to keep under lock and key. The last time I saw Gorski didn’t end so well.” Vic looked at Walt. 

“I’m listening.” Walt whispered. There wasn’t much else he could say. All he could do was listen, to show her that no matter what he was going to stay to help her through it.

Vic licked her lips before continuing. “The last time Ed and I were in the same room was the day after I ended things with him. I got the call over the radio, a domestic disturbance, which was our signal to meet at apartment 32. I don’t know what made me go, but I wish I hadn’t. When I entered, I didn’t see him at first, the room was quiet reeking of alcohol. When Ed drank he was always someone different, someone deadly and it was too late to leave. I turned, my intention was to leave, but there was Ed, his clothes….” Vic felt her hands shaking as she fought to control her breathing. Her chest constricted with the memories of what happened for the last time in that room. “He caught me off guard, getting me to the ground before I knew it. I can still smell the liquor on his breath. Ed got up, kicked me in the side a few times to keep me down. And then he pulled his gun on me…” 

Walt took a steady deep breath, digesting what Vic was telling him. “You’ve kept this to yourself all this time?” He asked and she nodded. “Oh, Vic, why didn’t you tell someone?”

“I couldn’t, Walt.” Vic said. “It would mean I’d have to admit what I did with him, and my stigma would be even worse. I can handle being a rat, sometimes, but to cops I would have been nothing more than a whore behind closed doors. Cops are brutal when one turns against another. Side’s get chosen and I would have been…” She clenched her hands. “I put in for a transfer and used most of the sick days I had so I wouldn’t have to run into him.”

This time Walt got up and started to pace. He had to let it all sink in, had to take what she was saying in stride. Her past back home was worse than he thought, and not just the shame of ratting out a fellow officer. “After he pulled his gun, what did he do? There’s something you’ve left out.”

Vic debating not answering him for half a second. What was running through his head had to be much worse and she didn’t want those thoughts in his head to be associated with her. “He shot me twice in the chest.” She finally said her voice thick with emotion. “It was pure dumb luck that I even put my vest on that day.”

“Vic…” Walt came back to the couch to sit next to her. He didn’t know if she wanted him to touch her, to hold her. He didn’t know if she wanted him to leave. So he just sat there, staring at her, waiting for her to tell him more if there was more for her to tell him. 

“Did you think he…?” Vic asked. When she had been on the beat, she had been a part of her share of sexual assault cases, and each time the women looked like they would rather be dead than living with what they would have to for the rest of their lives. 

“No, not for a second. Something like that leaves different scars.” Walt answered quickly taking her shaking right hand between his. He pulled her close this time, slowly so he wouldn’t spook her, and leaned back into the comfort of the sofa they sat on. His arms would be around her for as long as she needed him. 

“Then what scars am I left with?” Vic asked curling into Walt’s side. If she had had her way, she wouldn’t have told him about the last time she saw Ed. It wasn’t something anyone needed to hear, something she hadn’t wanted to drudge up between them. That last encounter was dark, she feared for her life when before with Ed, she’d never taken into consideration that he could hurt her. 

“Betrayal.” Walt answered. The more he learned about Gorski, the more Walt had wished he’d been the one to beat Ed into a near coma instead of Hector. He’d made it his problem when Vic came to him, he should have been the one to make Ed leave. She didn’t say anything more and neither did he. What was there to say in light of all that Vic had told him? They just sat together with Walt running his left hand up and down her arm. 

 

TO BE CONTINUED


	4. Chapter 4

CLOSURE:

TWO MONTHS AGO:

 

Saturday morning in Durant was a rare beautiful day for the residents. The temperature was perfectly warm, the sun was out with only minimal clouds in the sky. There was even a light breeze. Cady left her house breathing in the fresh Wyoming air going to her car. She was going to drive out to her dad’s cabin and take him out to eat. It had been a while since they had done anything like that. Something always seemed to come up for one or both of them that demanded their attention. For Cady it would be a job, which she finally landed back at her old firm when the person they hired left. For her dad, it would be a murder. So, she was going to take the chance and catch him for he got called to a crime scene. Cady had a moment where she had her cell phone in her hands, about to call her dad’s land line, but she thought better of it. She was going to surprise him.

The drive was made at a leisurely speed, taking the time to have her windows down and the fresh air filling Cady’s car. She truly enjoyed days like this, days where she could just cruise the speed limit with no other cars on the road. She turned on her blinker, though there was no need really, and turned down the long road that led to her father’s cabin. Cady smiled seeing her dad’s Bronco. She pulled up, parking next to his truck, and turned the key to switch off the engine. For a few lingering seconds she stayed where she was, watching the scenery spread out before her. It always calmed her, especially after that afternoon Fales showed up and practically tore about the inside of the cabin on his crusade to tear apart her father’s life. But they’d beaten that detective, saved Henry, and helped her father find some closure. 

Cady got out of her car, pushing her sunglasses up on top of her head, she shut the door, and walked up the steps of the cabin. There was a moment where she thought to knock, but her father was always alone. What need would she have to knock? Her hand wrapped around the knob, and she turned, not really looking at anything first but the floor. “Hey, dad!” She called out looking up and then she go the shock of her life, and more of an eyeful than she would have ever wanted. “Oh, my god! Really?!” Cady turned around, covering her eyes with her hand trying to rid her brain of the sight of Vic’s naked torso. “I’m going to step outside.” She stammered heading back out through the open door. Once outside, Cady dropped her hand and looked out at the landscape while she slowly breathed in and out.

 

TEN MINUTES EARLIER:

 

Vic had spent a good deal of the morning on the couch with Walt while they lazed around on his very comfortable couch. It was Saturday, there were no dead bodies, public disturbances, or anything else that required the Sheriff’s attention. They were going to spend it together, at least until someone called ruining their day with the dark stain of death. “This is nice.” Vic murmured “No one calling,” she chuckled lightly. “No one’s dead.” Sitting up, she let the blanket pool around her waist as she once more took her place astride his jean covered lap. They had spent the last hour in silence, sitting together. It had done Vic good, more than she thought it would. Chuckling she teased, “Dare I say, but, could we have the day off?”

“Don’t ruin it.” Walt replied turning his gaze from the midmorning sun streaming through the bay window to look at her. He wouldn’t get tired of that, seeing her smile, seeing the mischief in her eyes, and he knew he would never tire of holding her in his arms. His hands ran up and down her arms feeling her smooth skin, the muscles beneath. So many questions swam through his brain. Why him? What did Vic see in him? She was young, compared to him, Vic had a long life a head of her. What made her heart choose him? Over and over her thought about the same question ten different ways and yet he still had no idea what the answer was. Walt didn’t want to ask either, not when what he and Vic were starting was so new. He could stand with Vic and know that she would have his back without question or argument; the loyalty between them mattered more than he could ever say. She trusted him enough to talk to him, to open up about her past and what happened that made her move here. Vic trusted him more than he probably knew. 

Vic could see the wheels turning in Walt’s head. She didn’t want him thinking, she only wanted his attention on her. They had just wrapped up a murder investigation testing the bounds of their new bond. She wasn’t ready for him to start thinking; not about work, or about what they were together. Sometimes Vic could see the questions playing across his face in regards to her, to what they were sharing together, and not just the physical contact. He probably wondered why she was with him. Vic knew why, but she didn’t have the words to tell him, not the right ones anyway. Once she’d said he was a man, more so than Sean, and that was part of it. Another part was because in a world dominated by men, Vic had to be as tough as them, had to show she could hold her own playing with the big dogs. Meeting Walt, working with him, somehow she’d come to trust him enough to let down her guard. With Walt she wasn’t just a cop, she could be a woman too. Or maybe it was his whole lone cowboy thing he had going on. Maybe a combination of both. All Vic knew was that her heart was happy for the first time in a long while; really happy. 

Walt stopped his train of thought. What was there to think about when he had a beautiful woman on his lap? Vic had her hands resting lightly on his shoulders, her thumbs brushing back and forth along his collar bones. A simple back and forth motion that had his heart skipping a beat. His hands rested on her back. He squeezed once, angling his head so she could lean down and they could share another kiss. Somewhere in the back of Walt’s mind he barely registered the front door opening. 

“Hey, dad! Oh, my god! Really?!”

Automatically, Vic’s head turned towards the door just as Cady turned around, mumbled that she was going outside. For a minute she frozen went completely still before the shock and embarrassment rolled through her. She grabbed the blanket, wrapped it around her, and reluctantly, but she knew she should, moved from Walt’s lap to sit on the couch.

Walt got up the moment Vic moved off him. He grabbed the t-shirt from off the chair before rushing outside after his daughter. “Cady!” She was over by the fence. Moving closer, Walt kept his hands down to his side as he uttered her name. “Cady?”

Cady didn’t look at her dad, she couldn’t; not yet. “You and Vic? Really?” That was honestly the last thing she expected to ever see at her dad’s cabin.

“Yeah….” Walt nodded looking out at the landscape just as she was.

“You and Vic…” Cady was struggling to wrap her head around it. “I… uhh…” She bit her bottom lip truly at a loss for words. What was there to actually say? “Vic… Oh, my god!” Cady shook her head and then rubbed her eyes. “I’m not going to get that image out of my head any time soon.”

“Funny,” Walt smiled to himself. “Neither, am I.”

“DAD!” Cady shouted, but there was laughter in her voice. “I can’t…. Don’t joke about this. I might need therapy now.” She chuckled despite herself. 

Clearing his throat, Walt turned towards Cady, “I don’t know what to say.” On a good day Walt was a man of few words. Today, none came to mind. None would help him smooth things over with her. 

“It’s my fault for not calling.” Cady said not looking at her father. It would be a while, she knew, before she’d be able to look at him again. It wasn’t even him. It was the sight of Vic, who was only a few years older than her, happily sitting on her father lap. “I may really need some therapy for this, like honestly.” She joked again. “I just... no…. There is no looking Vic in the face anymore.” Cady shook her head. “I’m gonna go, let you two…” She stopped talking. Cady left the fence and headed to her car. 

Walt followed his daughter, let her get in her car before he asked, “You gonna be ok, punk?” She looked at everything, but at him, and he could understand it. This was probably not what she had in mind when she came over. This was the last thing he had in mind for the day. He didn’t have much of a plan outside spending the day with Vic. 

“It may take a while to warm up to this, the idea of you and Vic.” Cady answered truthfully. She had to tell him, and after what they went through with her mother’s murder. The truth was going to be all that ever passed between them. “I don’t know how to take it right now, and I may not know tomorrow.” 

“Ok,” Walt nodded stopping back from Cady’s jeep. “I’m here when you want to talk about it, if you ever do.” 

“I know,” Cady glanced at him and then turned the key in the ignition. Without another word, or goodbye, she drove away.

Up on the porch Vic watched the last few seconds between Walt and Cady. While he’d been out here, she’d pulled her jeans on, her t-shirt, and used a hair tie on her hair to contain the messy strands of errant blonde hair. She wanted to give them space to talk, or to yell, whichever happened. When Vic didn’t hear anything she came out to check on them. Cady was in her jeep and Walt was standing nearby. She still didn’t know how to process what had happened. Vic looked up when she sensed movement; Walt was coming towards her. She held up her hand to shade her eyes against the sun. “Cady ok?”

Walt walked up the steps, standing one just below Vic so he only had to angle his head up just a little to look up at her. He rubbed his hand over his mouth before answering, “She’s pretty certain she may need therapy.”

“Oh…” Vic replied not really sure what she should say to that. 

“And, she’s pretty sure she won’t be able to look you in the eye for a good long while.” Walt added trying to keep the laughter out of his voice. He really shouldn’t be filled so much amusement at the situation, but he was, and he couldn’t explain it. Yes, he felt embarrassed, to the point that he knew he should be mortified over what happened, except seeing Vic, seeing the confusion in her eyes just made him want to laugh at how this day was shaping up.

“Ah, I would imagine after seeing what she saw, she wouldn’t be able to look at you for a while either.” Vic remarked seeing the hidden delight in Walt’s eyes. He only nodded in agreement to her statement. She breathed in when his hands rested on her waist. “I know this isn’t how you wanted her to find out, or anyone for that matter.” 

“It was bound to happen.” Walt muttered. Right now he wasn’t willing to sacrifice this day worrying about what was going to happen tomorrow. He knew he needed to let Cady have her space, to let all of this sink in. When she was ready to talk, she would come to him, they would talk, and it would all get worked out. Walt had learned that lesson the hard way after he kept the truth from her about Martha. He had tried to push her into talking before she was ready. He wasn’t going to do that again. It was better for Cady to come to him when she was ready; not before. 

 

PRESENT:  
VIC’S HOUSE

 

It was 2am, Vic was awake snuggled in Walt’s arms. She had managed a few shorts minutes of sleep here and there, but always she woke with her mind replaying earlier events; her earlier confession about the last time she’d seen Ed in Philly. Even now, she could still feel the terrible weight in her chest from the bullets impacting with her vest. For a while as she’d lain in the apartment struggling to breathe deeply, she thought that that was it. She was going to suffocate. But as she continued to inhale and exhale the pressure lessened. Vic had gone to the ER in another part of the city, took off her vest, her uniform, and wore street clothes to get checked out. When it was clear one of the nurses wanted to call the police, Vic ran. She couldn’t have anyone finding out what had happened to her. Thinking back on it now, she could’ve ignored the call or pushed it off on someone else. She had been an idiot for going there at all. 

Walt had troubling falling asleep, and staying asleep in light of what Vic had told him. He knew she had suffered emotional abuse at the hands of Gorski in his twisted attempt to take revenge on her for doing what she knew to be right. He just didn’t realize the depth of it until Vic trusted him enough to tell him. When he had been face to face with Ed in that motel room, quoting passages from the Iliad, he had to remind himself of how things ended up for him in Denver. He had to content himself with telling Gorski that he should leave while he had the chance when everything inside him screamed to beat the man into a bloody pulp. Then again, Walt knew the moment Hector had him, all bets were off. A few days later, the wretched excuse for a man was in the hospital after the tune up he’d received at the hands of the vicious mercenary. That was Vic’s desperation. He knew that, and he wanted to protect her from the fall out of that choice. Walt was trying to make all this fit in his head while he tried to be there for Vic in any way she needed him.

Vic was idly running her thumb back and forth over Walt’s side waiting for sleep to take her. She knew things between them weren’t going to change, not even with what she’d told him. But that didn’t keep her from feeling this space between them either. He was trying to make sense of everything, and Vic probably wasn’t helping things by keeping silent. “Walt?” She called his name quietly hoping beyond hope that he was asleep and she could avoid this a few more hours. 

“Yeah, Vic.” Walt answered her just as quietly running his hand up and down her back. He could feel the tension in her, the unease, and the nervousness over his lack of outward reaction. Honestly, Walt didn’t know how to react. She had been hurt, he knew that, but he never knew, she didn’t let him see just how deeply that hurt ran. More than anything he wanted to make it all go away no matter what he had to do. Even if that meant remaining silent and letting Vic tell him what she wanted.

Vic didn’t have much planed beyond saying his name. “I don’t know what to say.” She shrugged as best she could. “I was kinda hoping you were asleep.” Sitting up, she brought her knees to her chest, and wrapped her arms around her legs. She didn’t know he was staying with her after all of that. “There’s something else I’m thinking about telling you, but I don’t know how…” Vic turned her head to right seeing the black screen of the TV. In the reflection, and the feeling of the mattress moving, she saw Walt sit up, sighed when his arms came around her. 

“You won’t know how I’ll react until you tell me.” Walt stated trying not to be worried about what she could possibly tell him after the events of the evening already behind them. Vic had this way of saying things that could shake him to the core. 

“What would you do if I told you I loved you?” Vic asked keeping her eyes on the blank TV screen. She wasn’t trying to rush anything between them with her question. She wasn’t even sure why she was asking at all. It just sort of came out.

Vic’s question slammed into Walt. His body went rigid as his mind scrambled for an answer when he didn’t have one. He didn’t know what he should say. “I don’t know,” Was the best response he had.

“I don’t know either.” Vic replied sighing. She left the bed and headed downstairs. Her leaving had nothing to do with his lack of response. Vic was too keyed up to sleep with her mind running in one hundred different directions. There was the lingering weight of all she’d gone through, the apprehension of having to talk about it in front of her brother and Raphe later on at the station. She didn’t know how she would talk about the stuff that happened here between her and Walt and Ed. Vic knew she loved Walt, but she didn’t know just how deeply that love ran.

Walt watched her go feeling like he should go after her, like he should take her in his arms and tell her that he loved her from the rising of the sun until the setting of the moon. But he couldn’t form the words, couldn’t let them fall from between his lips. Walt knew he cared for Vic, more than he had when he’d been in a semi relationship with Lizzie. What could he say to her? How did he tell her that the last time he loved someone, loved Martha, her murder had nearly destroyed him. Vic, in her way, was healing the battered remnants of his heart and his soul. Walt dropped back to the bed, his left arm covering his eyes. He had to fix this, later; he was going to give Vic her space.

Hours later Vic’s phone alarm chirped waking up from where she was curled up on the couch. She glared at the offending piece of technology, while battling back the small glimmer of hope that she would be called away to a crime scene. When the chirp sounded again, even more annoying this time, Vic picked up her cell to switch it off. Sitting up, she stretched, her back and shoulders popping bringing a moan from Vic as well as a wave of momentary dizziness. It ended with Vic falling back against the couch and closing her eyes. She wasn’t ready to face today, not when so many questioned waited for her with answers that she didn’t want to give. But all that was going to happen in town. Until then she was going to get up, make breakfast, and wait for Walt. 

Upstairs, Walt breathed in deeply having been awake for an hour. He didn’t get up until he heard the noise of Vic’s phone down stairs. Getting up, he pulled his shirt on before heading down the steps. When he came down to the first level, Vic wasn’t on the couch, but he heard a small rustling coming from the kitchen. Walt saw Vic starting the coffee maker and then push the button on the toaster. “You sleep ok?” He asked coming towards her. 

Vic nodded and turned towards Walt. She crossed her arms over her abdomen before she looked at him. “About what I asked…. Uh…” Vic dug her fingers into the shirt she was wearing. “I wasn’t trying to… I didn’t want you to answer. Not really it was just…”

“Vic…” Walt automatically put his right hand on his hip, over where his gun would be if he was wearing it. “I want to answer, to tell you, but, uh… I can’t right now.”

“You wanted to?” Vic looked at him.

“Yeah,” Walt replied. He moved to her, his hands resting on the counter in either side of her hips. “When I say it, I want there to be no doubt between us.” Gently, he kisses her forehead and then rested his against her brow. 

Vic placed her hands on Walt’s chest, sliding them up and over his shoulder. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” She whispered.

Walt in turn wrapped his arms around Vic’s waist, his body pressing into her, pressing her against the counter while the sweet smell of coffee wafted around them. “You have a lot on your mind, and you’ve been through the emotional wringer these last few days.” 

“Yeah,” Vic answered leaning back to look at Walt. “And it’s not over yet.” She was grateful that they both silently agreed to leave what she asked alone until they both had a better of idea of how to honestly answer.

“Go jump in the shower,” Walt grumbled. “I’ll bring you a cup of coffee when it’s ready.” Vic smiled at him, warmth blossoming in his heart. Moving them away from the counter, he turned her towards the stairs, dropped a kiss to her shoulder, and then lightly pushed in that general direction. He heard her laughing all the way up the stairs. Walt knew that would only be temporary happiness. When they walked into the station it would all come crashing down. The worst thing of all, there would be nothing Walt could do to stop it from happening. This was something Vic would have to do on her own.

Upstairs Vic turned the water in the shower on as hot as she could stand it. Then while the water heated up, she looked at herself in the mirror. She was tired, emotionally worn out, but somehow she managed a smile. It was Walt. No matter what happened to her, she knew that she could face this day because of Walt. She had been strong on her own, to face what happened, to pick herself up and keep moving forward. But when she was with Walt he gave her the courage to feel what happened to her. She never let herself feel the emotional damage before. Stripping out of her shirt and her pants, Vic walked into the shower so she could start the day. 

In the kitchen Walt watched the coffee filling the pot as he munched on the slice of toast that popped up from the toaster. He listened to the sound of the shower running above his head while trying not to imagine Vic in said shower. Her hair wet, soap streaming down her body, her skin tinged a light rosy red from the water being too hot for her. A growl rumbled in his chest just thinking about it. She had once let him watch her in the shower at his cabin. Walt knew that she knew he was watching, still she let him. He could still see her blonde hair as the water washed over herm the expanse of her back. All of Vic was a feast for his eyes. He pulled two coffee cups down, filled them, and left the kitchen to return to the bedroom. The bathroom door was ajar with steam slipping through the crack bidding him to open it and step inside. Walt set his coffee mug down, before going through the door where he saw Vic standing just out of reach of the water. “You ready for coffee?”

Vic turned, the steam swirling around her when she heard Walt offering her coffee. She finished her shower but was reluctant to leave the warmth of the water because it meant she was one step closer to starting her day of being questioned over and over by Raphael. Walking to the edge of the tile, she reached out for the mug. She a moment where she thought Walt was going to hold I just out of reach to tease her, but he didn’t. Instead, he stepped in close. “Do you need to use the shower?” Vic smiled taking a sip of the black caffeinated nirvana.

Walt chuckled at her question. He thought about it, had a moment where he wanted to strip off his shirt, and walk into the warm pulse of the water where he could press her body up against the tile wall, take her lips for a searing morning kiss that would make them temporarily forget what was ahead of them today. “That depends, are you gonna stay in there?” Walt asked. When he was alone with Vic, he found another side of himself that he never knew existed. 

“Is that what you want?” Vic asked taking a step back towards the water. She took one more drink of coffee before setting the mug on the inset ledge of the she shower wall. “Cause, I wouldn’t mind sharing.” Vic knew what she was doing, she was stalling, but Walt made that easy, and he let her get away with it. He didn’t want this day to officially start any more than she did. She was rewarded with him taking his t-shirt off. She turned around to step under the stream of water to wait for him, to eagerly anticipate Walt’s hands on her. Vic didn’t have to wait long. The steam heavy air shifted around her, and then his right hand settled in the middle of her back, but it did not linger. 

Walt moved his hand up along Vic’s wet skin. His hand rest on her shoulder, then slid across her torso bringing her back against his chest. He rested his cheek atop her head bringing his left arm across her abdomen. Walt knew Vic well enough to read what her body wanted and to ignore the words coming out of her mouth. She just needed to be held, to have someone who could let her be fragile while knowing she wouldn’t be judged for that weakness. 

Vic brought her hand up to gently grip Walt’s arm. He always knew what she needed when she was too stubborn to ask for it. She turned in his arms, her hands framing his face. Looking deeply into his eyes she knew that she was going to get through this, no matter the dark emotions that swirled inside her, or the tormenting memories that she would have to suffer today. Without needing words she pressed her lips to Walt’s. The kiss was light, easy without trying to spark something more even though she wanted more. They just didn’t have the time. 

Walt growled in response to Vic’s kiss, his arms tightened on her. The taste of Vic’s coffee laced kiss mixed with the water of the shower muddled his mind. He lazily explored her mouth, wiled away the minutes in the hot stream of water, Vic’s naked form pressed against him. Walt reluctantly pulled back his body demanded he take in oxygen. “As much as I want to continue this…”

“I know,” Vic breathed in, “We don’t have time right now.” She kissed him one more time before leaving him to collect himself. Pulling a towel around her Vic went to the closet to get dressed. She pulled on a pair of black underwear as well as a matching black bra. Vic was pulling her dark blue jeans when she heard the sower shut off. She grabbed a tank top and her khaki shirt before going back out to the bedroom in time to catch Walt buttoning his jeans with his back to her. Like always, she sucked in a breath at the sight of Walt’s scars. “Do we want to hit the Bee for breakfast?”

Walt pulled on his t-shirt, and then the blue jean button up shirt he usually wore to the Station. “We can.” He answered her moving out of the bathroom so he could sit on the bed and pull on his boots. “And I know you’re stalling.” 

“Me? Never.” Vic faked being shocked as she sat down next to Walt putting her socks and boots on. “Why would I want to stall being questioned by Raphe about my affair with Gorski?” She asked with heavy sarcasm. Walt just looked at her in that was he did that made her smile. 

 

TWO MONTHS AGO:  
WALT’S CABIN

 

Walt sat in the saddle, reins in hand guiding his horse towards the steps where Vic stood looking at him, her hand shielding her eyes from the mid-day sun. Tugging on the reins, he signaled to the mare to stop. He couldn’t help the smile at pulled at his lips when Vic eyed him, her face speaking volumes. She’d been in Wyoming long enough, he was going to show her what riding a horse could be like. Walt was also using it to avoid thinking about Cady, about what she’d walked in on with him and Vic. There was only so much awkwardness he could handle in a single day.

“Whatcha doin, Walt?” Vic asked when he and the horse stopped in front of the steps. She knew the horse he was riding, it was the same one that had gotten spooked, ran for its life dragging a dead body along behind. Then, Vic had to be the one to hold the reins of said horse, while being prepared to fire a gun in the air to scare it half to death for a second time while Walt had the murderer tied up and the rope attached to the saddle.

Walt smiled pushing the brim of his hat up, “I’m thinking I’m going to try and get you on this horse with me so I can take you for a ride.” 

“Isn’t that the horse that killed a guy?” Vic asked sarcastically. She shrugged when Walt made a face at her. Her response was to smile and to shrug. 

“You’ve been in Wyoming two years.” Walt pointed out, stretching out his left hand to pat the mare’s neck. “Don’t you think it’s time you gave this a try?”

“No,” Vic answered shaking her head. “I’m from Philly, we don’t ride horses. We drive.” She chuckled when he just looked at her again in his classic Walt ‘I’m not amused’ expression. 

“There’s gonna come a time where you’ll have no choice but to get somewhere by horseback.” Walt remarked.

“That’s what ATV’s are for.” Vic replied sweetly. “Why is this so important?” She stepped down one step while keeping her eyes on the mare.

Walt had a moment where he was about to say that it was important for her to learn now that she lived her, but it was some than that. “This….” He licked his lips. “This is a part of my life I want to share with you.” There were parts of their lives Walt knew would clash, he just hoped she was willing to give this a try.

Vic opened her mouth to gently protest, to keep stalling. In truth she was a little afraid of being on an animal that had at one time been frightened out of its mind. The mare trusted Walt, they had some sort of weird cowboy/horse understanding going on, but what about her? She was a stranger to the horse. “Are you sure it’s not going to freak out….?” Vic asked stepping down another step carefully. 

“You’ll be fine,” Walt answered. “Trust me.” He held out his left hand to her waiting for her to make up her mind. Vic couldn’t be told what to do, he knew that. She had to make her up her mind. Everything had to be her choice. A few more seconds passed by and then Vic rested her hand in his. She slid her hand over his forearm until she gripped him just below the bend of his elbow. He held tight as she jumped up behind him. 

Vic managed to get herself up on the mare and she was relieved when the horse didn’t try to buck her off. Though, the horse reacted to another person’s weight on its back which forced Vic to wrap her arms tightly around Walt’s waist until the mare settled. “Good horse….” She whispered her forehead pressed against the center of Walt’s back. This was the last thing she thought she would be doing today, but after the scene with Cady, she knew Walt needed something familiar. 

“You alright back there?” Walt asked trying to keep the amusement out of his voice. She mumbled something that was lost against the fabric of his shirt. “The moment you’re uncomfortable, let me know.” He added, not wanted to push her boundaries too far too fast. Vic was still a city girl. Lightly digging his heels into the mare’s side, he signaled his mouth to move. The moment they set off, Vic’s arms constricted on his waist, and then relaxed to the point only her fingers were digging into his shirt. He would go only so far as a clearing on the other side of the trees he liked to disappear to. 

Vic couldn’t believe she was doing this. Why was she doing this? Oh, yeah, Walt asked. She found most of the things she did was because of Walt, and not because he was her boss. That had nothing to do with it. He asked and didn’t order her about. He respected her more than any man she had ever had in her life, including Sean who by the end tried to use his position as her husband to get her to quit her job. Unfortunately for him, that had blown up in his face, and she’d chosen to remain at the department. Sean had seen it as Vic choosing Walt, but really, they chose each other. 

 

PRESENT:  
SHERIFFS STATION

 

There were few things that could annoy Vincent Moretti, his sister just happened to be one of them. As angry as he was over the fact that Gorski had the nerve to stalk her, he was even angrier that she didn’t think she could confide in him in the first place. Then again, part of it could be his fault. He’d never been easy on her, especially when she wanted to be a Cop like every other male in the family. Vincent hadn’t wanted this life for Victoria, the coldness, the brutality that one human could visit upon another. So, now he sat outside the Sheriff’s office in Durant, Wyoming waiting for his errant baby sister to appear after she’d walked out on them at the bar last night. Then he heard the door downstairs open and his sister’s distinctive voice saying “Oh, Walt, there’s no fun in leaving town, not with what happened last time.” Her tone struck him as odd, he’d never heard her sound like that with anyone else; not even Sean. 

Vic walked up the stairs next to Walt. They had grabbed a couple of coffee from the Bee and something more substantial to eat than the toast she had attempted to make at her house. She had managed to set aside the fact that Raphael would be waiting for her at the station as well as her brother who would more than likely bring her mother in tow to rain guilt down upon her for leaving then behind. Walt had been talking about what they would do for the weekend, provided there were no murders, or anything else that demanded their attention. He mentioned the idea of renting a cabin by the lake away from town. The last time Vic had attempted to take some time out of town, she’d ended up in a car accident and then the captive of some crazy doomsday prepper who had a grudge against Walt. Leaving town was not something she was eager to try again for a while.

Vincent stood at the top of the stairs, his hands on his hips, “Are you seriously doing this to yourself again?”

Vic looked up at her brother, the laughter of a few seconds ago vanishing, “What the hell is your problem now?”

“Besides you abandoning your family at a bar,” Vincent moved back when Victoria stepped up in front of him. “My little sister is sleeping with another boss.” He hissed. 

Vic smiled darkly at her brother, looked over her shoulder at Walt remembering what he told her, and when she turned back to Vincent, she planted her fist in his face. She caught him off guard sending him into the banister where he had to put his hands out to grab the railing. But she wasn’t done. As he held his jaw, she moved in close and in a seething heated tone whispered, “If you utter those words to anyone else, I will make sure you’re picking your teeth up out of the dirt.” Vic wasn’t denying it, she wasn’t going to insult Vincent’s intelligence that way. He was a competent detective. 

Walt stayed where he was knowing this was between siblings, and he had promised Vic she could hit her brother once. She looked at him, he didn’t move a muscle, not when she had that dark grin on her face that said she was about to do something violent. “You alright, Vic?” He asked coming up the stairs the rest of the way to see what damage she had done to her brother. Vincent would have a nice sized bruise on his jaw. Later he would take a look at Vic’s hand to make sure she could still use it. While her brother was still distracted by holding his face, Walt rested his hand on Vic’s back, fingers digging in lightly. 

“I’m fine, Walt” Vic nodded flexing her fingers. She wouldn’t give Vincent the satisfaction of knowing just how his hard head had hurt her hand. Later she knew he would find some way to make her pay for that outburst of anger, but for now it was worth it.

 

TO BE CONTINUED:


	5. Chapter 5

SUMMARY: Vic thought her day had gone bad with a busted knee, but nothing prepared her for this.  
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of LONGMIRE  
RATING: T+  
PAIRING: Walt/Vic

 

CLOSURE:

 

Vic sat in one of Walt’s chairs while Raphael sat in the other one facing her. There was a video camera she was trying so hard not to look at. While the ADA gathered his thoughts, she cradled her throbbing hand in her lap attempting to push the pain out of her mind. It was going to be hard enough talking as it was. As much as she wanted Gorski locked up, Vic didn’t want to use her experience as a nail in his coffin. She wished she’d had gone with her first instinct and told Raphe to go to hell yesterday. Since she didn’t, she had to lock her nerves away and just get through it. At least Walt was waiting on the other side of the door. 

Raphael shuffled some papers around, found the notes he needed, and then clicked on the digital recorder that he would need. “Can you state you name for the record.” He said looking at Victoria, noticing the way she cradled her hand, the way she was looking at the door, looking like she wanted to run away. 

Vic heard Raphe, she didn’t want to answer, but she did. “My name is Victoria Moretti, Deputy in the Durant Sheriff’s department.”

“And before that?” Raphe asked.

“Before that I was a Homicide Detective in Philadelphia police department for five years.” Vic shifted in her seat, her left knee ached. Sleeping on the couch, curled up, had been a mistake. 

“When did you meet Ed Gorski?” Raphe glanced down at his notes he’d made the night before when he was questioning her about this very subject. Last night she’d been angry and combative. She hadn’t answered him completely.

“I was a patrol officer the first time I met him. He noticed me while I was securing a crime scene. Detective Gorski told me for being foot patrol that I was doing a good job and he wanted to take me out for a beer.” Vic started to tap her right foot. It was something she used to do, something she thought she’d stopped a long time ago.

“Did it bother you that a married man was asking you out for drink?” Raphe didn’t look at Vic when he asked. 

“No, at the time I didn’t know he was married.” Vic replied quickly. She looked back on all the times she had been with Ed and all the signs were there, Vic just never wanted to see them. 

“How could you not know?” Raphe questioned.

“He never wore a wedding ring.” Vic said. “And there was no tan line to suggest he’d ever worn one.” She’d thought back over every moment of her time with Ed, and not once had she ever remembered seeing the discoloration. Maybe she just didn’t want to know. 

“Spend a lot of time staring at his fingers, did you?” Raphe quipped.

“I’m a cop, a damned good one, and I notice things.” Vic snapped. Then she shook her head knowing what it was he was doing. He had to asked questions that the defense would ask.

“What happened after Mr. Gorski asked you out for drinks that first time?” Raphe returned to the subject at hand after straying a little bit.

“I turned him down the first time, the second time, the third time, and even a fourth.” Vic answered. “By the fifth time, I don’t know what made me say yes. I guess his persistence paid off.” Going back to that moment, Vic saw Ed’s smile, saw the spark of desire in his eyes; somehow that drew her in. The excitement was the first taste of a drug that nearly got her killed. 

 

Out in the office, Walt tried not to stare at his closed office door. Vic’s brother hadn’t come in with them, he’d chosen to sit outside nursing his wounded pride over the punch to face he’d pushed his sister into giving him. He was sitting in Vic’s seat, at her desk, with her hockey puck in his hands, turning it over and over as he’d seen her do on many occasions when they had to work late on a case while trying to put pieces together. Walt loved to see Vic sitting at this deck, sometimes with her feet up on the corner.

Walt wanted to be in there, to give Vic the support she needed, but he also knew she was strong enough to see this through on her own. He turned the puck over in his hands, worrying with it, trying to pass the time. Sitting idly by bothered Walt. He envied the days when his county was quiet, but when they were here, he wished for something to do, anything that kept him from just sitting. Walt got up, setting the puck aside, and went to the coffee maker to pour himself yet another cup. Like he needed the caffeine. It was something to do.

Taking his cup, he walked out of the office and out into the hall to check on Vic’s brother, another time tested method of killing time. “How’s the face?” He asked standing by the bench where Vincent still sat.

“It hurts,” Vincent replied, “which was my darling sister’s intent.” He tried not to use too many of his facial muscles to speak as it caused more pain to radiate out through his face. “She can be a terror, as our dad liked to call her sometimes. 

“You pushed her to it.” Walt’s said, his version of saying ‘I told you so’. When would people learn, including her brother, that no one could push Vic into doing something she didn’t want to do?

Vincent looked up, “If anyone was going to hit me, I thought it’d be you.” Though, taking a punch from Victoria was something he could handle. Being laid out flat on the floor by Sheriff Longmire was nothing something he would have wanted. 

“Why would I do that?” Walt asked, giving a little shrug. He wasn’t going to deny, if asked, wanting to pop Vic’s older brother in the mouth.

“Isn’t that what you cowboy types do? You defend your woman’s honor?” Vincent arched his brow. Judging by the look on Longmire’s face, he would be hurting more than he was now. 

“Vic can defend herself.” Walt answered. He knew that about her almost immediately, but it didn’t stop him from trying to protect her whenever he could. 

“Yeah, she definitely can at that.” Vincent agreed. Even though he hated that his sister was falling back into the same behavior that forced her to leave her home, he had to admit her association with Walt had made her a better person. Vincent was here a whole day before Victoria had punched him. That was a new personal best for his sister. 

 

Back in Walt’s office Vic was careful to keep her breathing even, her body language relaxed. Raphael was getting into territory that made her more than a little uncomfortable. He’d asked how she met Gorski. How long before he asked her out. Now he was getting into the territory of when they started sleeping together. Vic was reminding herself to count to five before answering. It gave her time to calm herself. “We didn’t start sleeping together right away. He took me out for a few drinks, a few weeks of dinners, and then I heard nothing from him for a month until I was securing another of his crime scenes. My intention had been to ignore any advance he would have made, but he asked me out for a drink. Ed explained that he got bogged down with a case that required him to go undercover.” She took a moment, turning her face towards Walt’s chair. “We got drunk that night and wound up in a motel.”

“And after that first time, were there more meetings in various motels?” Raphael asked, as he tried not to flinch at the glare Victoria was sending his way. 

“No,” Vic shook her head. “After that we started meeting in an apartment; sometimes when I was on duty.” The knot of long held guilt over being with Gorski started to loosen in her gut. Confession was good for the soul. She needed to unburden to herself so she could go back to Walt with a clean conscience. 

“How would you know to meet him?” Raphael asked doing everything he could not to look at Victoria. As much as she hated answering these questions, he really hated to ask them. They’ve known each other since they were kids. Seeing her now, knowing what she went through, it made him want to do all he could to get Gorski locked away. 

“A call would come over the radio, a domestic at apartment 32, and I knew what it meant.” Vic replied turning her head to look at the door. The urge to run had been riding her the last few minutes, but she knew if she did that, she wouldn’t stop; not until she was locked securely in Walt’s arms. He alone made the past quiet. So, she balled her hands into tightly clenched fists, forcing herself to stay put. 

“And how long did these meetings go on for?” Raphael asked. 

“A few more months and then I called it off. Gorski started to get off on the danger, the thrill of going to extremes.” Vic answered carefully. She would phrase her next answers with caution so she could avoid bringing to light that she’d been shot and had not reported it. 

 

TWO MONTHS AGO:

 

The afternoon sun was bright in a clear blue sky. Walt was stretched out on a blanket in the middle of the field with Vic at his side. They had spent the morning with a leisurely ride until Vic needed a break. It had been a long time since he could just enjoy a day like this with someone special. It had been a long time since he felt like a human being with emotions and not like a shade just moving through the world trying to get through the day. Walt wasn’t sure how, but Vic brought him back to life with her sass, her smile, and her tough as nails attitude. Vic was his redemption from the dark path he’d been on.

Vic had her eyes closed, breathing deeply of the mountain feeling completely relaxed despite what had happened that morning between them and Cady. After that, Walt had gotten her on a horse, the same horse that killed a guy, and now they were in the middle of nowhere. She couldn’t be happier. This was what she thought she had found with Sean after the disaster that was her affair with a fellow cop. But what she was feeling with Walt surpassed what Sean made her feel. “Is this more of Wyoming life I need to learn about?” She asked rolling to her side draping her right leg over his, and her right arm stretched out over his stomach. 

“Yup,” Walt opened one eye to look at her. “It’s a nice life here if you let it sink in.” He mumbled closing his eye and breathing deeply. Vic pillowed her head on his chest, hugging him. That brought a smile to his lips. On days like this, he could almost feel time come to a complete stop. Bringing his hand up, he cupped the back of Vic’s head, letting his fingers thread through her sun blonde hair. This was how a Saturday afternoon should be spent.

“I can kinda see it.” Vic joked as she listened to the way Walt breathed in and out; completely relaxed. The longer she stayed, the more content she was. It didn’t matter that some days were boring, others were hectic, or some days they were being shot at. She was truly finding a home here. That surprised her most of all. Vic would go on and on about Philly, about the life she had, but at the end of the day, this was where she really wanted to be. Whether it was having a beer at the Red Pony, breakfast at the Busy Bee, or curled up on Walt’s couch in his cabin with a fire in the hearth. 

“I knew this place would rub off on you.” Walt grinned. He breathed in, taking a lungful of mountain air and the scent that was all Vic. 

“Not so much the place as who I’m with.” Vic replied with a smile and a chuckle when Walt kissed the top of her head. Again, she thought, ‘This is the life, perfect and simple, and safe.’ Walt made everything better for her. 

“Well, whatever it is….” Walt trailed off letting the warm afternoon sun lull him into a relaxed state that he could only ever find out here in solitude. Now, somehow, Vic was a part of his inner peace. 

Vic snuggled tightly into Walt’s side. There was nothing she liked more than being in his arms, than having him hold her to close she could almost believe nothing else could touch her, nothing else would harm them. Today, for however long it lasted, she was going to just soak in all the peace, all the warmth of being with Walt. 

 

PRESENT:  
WALT’S OFFICE:

 

Vic could feel her heart start to race. Raphael had just asked her what happened the last time she was with Gorski in the apartment. It had taken everything she had to confess the details to Walt last night, and even then she nearly backed off, nearly kept silent about it. Seeing Walt’s face close down as she told him made her die a little inside. She knew it was how he dealt with hard news, personal revelations, and then he held her letting her know that he was making sense of everything. That, more than anything, had helped her reconcile her past. Now she had to deal with it again. 

“Victoria?” Raphael called her name gently. “What happened?” He could see it on her face that something terrible happened. She was biting the bottom of her lip, almost trying to physically keep her secret from escaping. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.” Raphe had known Victoria a long time, he knew when something was wrong with her. He knew she was holding something back. 

Vic swallowed. “I think I need a minute.” Without waiting for him to say anything, she got up and fled Walt’s office while trying to make it look as if she wasn’t panicked at all. Her feet carried her right passed Walt where he sat at her desk, and she tried not to notice the way he got up to follow her. She didn’t stop until she was down the stairs and nearly out of the door of the Sheriff’s Station, the former Durant Library. Vic pressed her back against the wall and covered her face with her hands. Her chest rose and fell rapidly even as she tried to keep herself calm. 

Walt gave Vic a few seconds head start before he went down the stairs after her. He half expected her to run out the door in the chilly air, but he found her holding up the wall instead. “What’d he ask?” He mirrored her stand on the opposite wall. It was best to let Vic have some breathing room. Walt couldn’t exactly take her in his arms here, not when they were in the station. So, he leaned against the wall and put his hands to his hips waiting for her to answer him. 

Vic dropped her hands, “He asked me about the last time I saw Gorski. It… uhhh….” She closed her mouth, pressing her lips together. She was physically trying to keep the truth from spilling out. “I can’t tell him.” Some days she barely wanted to admit to the fact that she was nearly murdered. It was too humiliating to even think about. 

“Alright, you don’t tell him.” Walt agreed. He knew what it took for her to tell him about the last time she and Gorski were together. Even now he was still battling the urge to go all the way out to Philadelphia and put a few rounds in the former cop himself. 

Vic scoffed lightly, “I need a drink.” She needed something to settle her nerves and steel her resolve against letting everything spill out when Raphe continued to bombard her with questions. 

“Well, it is five o’clock somewhere.” Walt muttered. “How about we go to the Red Pony and I get you a burger.” He wanted to do anything he could to get her away from the questions, from the memories it drudged up, if only for a little while. Walt didn’t like to think that all these questions were causing Vic problems. He wanted so many things for her, things he didn’t know how to make happen. 

“I said a drink, Walt.” Vic teased, but she knew she couldn’t imbibe alcohol, not while she was answering all those questions for Raphael. “But a burger is a good second.” She smiled wanting so badly to reach out and cup his face, but she knew if she did that someone might see them. The Sheriff and one of his Deputies being friendly in public would cause some trouble that neither of them needed at the moment. 

“Good,” Walt nodded. “I’ll be sure to get you a drink later.” He just hoped that shew as in the mood for it later and that the questions weren’t working old issues that she’d managed to work through.

Vic chuckled, “Later, I’ll need a six pack and maybe…” She licked her lips and arched her brow. Walt made the face she loved to get from him; embarrassed and intrigued. All she had to do was get through the day and then tonight it would be all about drinks and being with Walt. She really looked forward to being with him. He made getting through the day all the more worthwhile. 

“Why do I let you talk to me that way?” Walt joked, knowing full well that he liked it when his Vic got playful. Though, he knew exactly why he let her speak to him like that. He loved it when she did. Her words got his blood pumping, his heart racing, and his desire rising. 

“Cause, you like it.” Vic replied opening the door to walk out in to the brisk mountain air to go across the street to Walt’s bronco. She took a deep breath of the air feeling that telltale burn in her lungs. It was enough for her to pick up the pace as much as she was able with her knee starting to throb from sleeping on the couch. Walt never locked his vehicle, so she was able to hop into the passenger seat and try to massage some of the pain away. 

Walt opened the door, saw Vic rubbing her knee. “You ok?” He asked climbing in behind the wheel. 

“Yeah,” Vic sighed, “It’s just a little sore today. I shouldn’t have slept on the couch like that.” She stretched her leg until she felt a small pop behind the kneecap. It made her growl in discomfort. “That hurt a little bit.” Vic leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and waited for the sting to dissipate. It was then she felt Walt’s hand on her thigh giving her a small squeeze.

 

Upstairs Raphe came out into the hall just as he heard the door down stairs shut. He knew that Victoria was gone, the Sheriff too. Then he looked to the left where Vincent was sitting. “They leave?”

“Yeah,” Vincent nodded. He wasn’t about to stop them, not when Vic was in a mood. Vince didn’t need to be punched again. “I think your questions were bringing up some things for her.”

“I need her to finish these questions.” Raphe dropped down on the bench next to his lifelong friend. “Is it just me or is Victoria acting weirder?” There was the incident at the bar last night, the protective way the Sheriff had hovered around her.

“It’s not just you.” Vincent dropped his hand from his jaw. He tested the extent of the damage by slowly opening his mouth. There was a distinctive pop that made him grumble in pain. “Ever since coming to this place, she’s been different.” 

“Yeah, she’s settled.” Raphe said. It wasn’t hard to see that something, or someone, had managed to capture the attention of Victoria Moretti, and that somehow the willful youth had turned into a woman that found where she belonged. “I doubt Victoria is ever coming home.” 

“And that will be a long drawn out fight between my sister and my mother.” Vincent shook his head knowing that it was only a matter of time before their mother sniffed out the fact that Victoria was sleeping with Sheriff Longmire. That would be one heck of an explosion and it was one he hoped that didn’t happen; for Victoria’s sake. 

“Your mom does like to have her way.” Raphe joked knocking his shoulder into Vincent’s.

“And Victoria never gives her that.” Vincent replied.

 

RED PONY:

 

Vic sat at a table happily chewing away on her bite of burger while Walt was watching her with an amused smirk. He was sipping at his coffee after having opted out of eating anything. She swallowed the bite of food, took a sip of her soda, and then asked, “Are you sure you’re not eating anything? You should eat.”

“I’m fine.” Walt muttered bringing his coffee cup up to his lips. He wasn’t the one being questioned, that was Vic, and she needed the food to keep her strength and her resolve to deal with her family. “I just want to make sure you have all the energy you need to continue on with the ADA.” More than anything he wanted to be close at hand the moment she needed him. Walt knew he needed her, now more than ever. 

Vic set aside her burger and wiped her hands on her napkin. “I wish you were in there with me.” As of late, she found herself wishing a lot of things where Walt was concerned. That was something she had never done with Sean. Vic hadn’t done a lot of things where her ex-husband was concerned. Walt, his silent strength, give her the courage she needed to finally confront the rest of what Gorski had done to her. “Because of you, I can finally put this behind me.” Without caring who saw them, Vic reached across the table to place her hand over Walt’s. People already suspected they were in a relationship. What would a little touching hurt the perception of people now? 

Walt turned his hand over, their palms touching, his fingers lacing together with hers. Vic was more than he thought he would have again, definitely more than he wanted. She was strong, a force to be reckoned with, and he loved that. Walt said nothing, he just watched her with a small smile tugging at his lips. Idly his thumb ran up and down her index finger, pausing at her knuckle adding a small amount of pressure. Walt didn’t know how to say it yet, but Vic lessened the sting of Martha’s death, she was a soothing balm to the guilt he felt over her death. Someday, he would tell her, but today was about her, about her past being buried. 

“Is it bad that I don’t want to finish this with Raphe, that all I want is to just go to the cabin and sit on the porch watching clouds go by?” Vic asked withdrawing her hand so she could finish off the delicious burger the Red Pony was known for making. 

“It’s not bad, but you have to see this through.” Walt answered knowing it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “Once it’s over and done, and if no one dies, we’ll go. No phones, no people, just us.”

“Promise?” Vic winked seconds before taking another bite out of her burger. 

“Have I ever let you down?” Walt asked picking up his coffee cup.

Vic shook her head. No, Walt never let her down. He always came for her, and she knew he always would. They were so close that sometimes she thought it should scare her, but one look from him, one kiss, one touch of his hand, and all the ill feelings that tried to rise were gone. 

 

TWO MONTHS AGO:

 

Walt guided his horse along the path towards the cabin feeling settled in the deepest parts of his soul. Behind him, Vic had her cheek rested on his shoulder. He could tell she was just as relaxed as he was. Which was a great change from earlier this afternoon when he got her on the horse. She had been riddled with nerves. Now, it was different. To him, she was giving off the feeling that she belonged in the saddle. Walt could feel Vic’s breathing even out, her chest rising and falling lightly. Could it be she was so comfortable that she fell asleep? “Vic?” He bounced his shoulder slightly just to jostle her head.

Vic groaned, nuzzling her cheek against Walt’s strong back. She hadn’t realized when she’d fallen asleep, on the back of a horse no less. “Are we almost home?” Vic asked sleepily keeping her eyes closed, breathing very slowly. She was so comfortable that being on a horse wasn’t bothering her. When Walt didn’t answer her, she opened her eyes and saw the cabin in the distance. Dinner was calling her name as she tightened her arms around his waist marginally. 

“Home, huh?” Walt asked, a slight trace of pleasure in his voice. This was the first time she associated home with his cabin. “Yeah, we’re almost there. I was thinking of grilling up some steaks for dinner. That sound ok?”

“That sounds great.” Vic answered eagerly. “I’m starving actually.” She arched her back feeling a few cracks. A few more minutes and they were stopping at the fence. Walt gave her his arm so that she could slip down to the ground, and then he dismounted. “If you want, I can head inside and get things started.” Vic offered, starting to move away when Walt grabbed her about the waist, pulling her close. Her hands lifted to his face just as their lips met.

Walt kissed Vic lazily feeling her melt into his arms. He would never grow weary of her lips pressed to his, the dance of their tongues together, or the way she breathed with him. The lack of oxygen forced him to pull back from her, to take in a ragged gasp. “Steaks are in the fridge.” Walt muttered. One more kiss, more pass of their tongues together, and then Walt moved away again. “I’ll be in soon.” 

Vic’s head spun, as it always did when he kissed her. “Ok…” She licked her lips, drawing in the taste of him to dance on her tongue. Vic didn’t know why Walt affected her the way he did, but she wasn’t about to stop it. Turning towards the cabin Vic walked as normally as she could with grass and dirt crunching beneath her boots. Her life had taken a strange turn as of late. She was once again in a relationship, a very new, very deep, and caring relationship with another superior, but when she looked at Walt, Vic couldn’t help but fall deeper and deeper into his world. She hadn’t wanted to at first, she had wanted to remain a faithful wife, but the more she worked with Walt, the more she came to care about him and care less about her marriage. Walt was all she wanted. 

Walt took the saddle from the mare, resting it on the fence for the moment so he could take his mount to the barn. He tried not to pay attention to Vic as she walked slowly up to the house, seemingly floating on the air after their kiss. Walt loved kissing Vic, loved dominating her mouth when he knew she would let him. Everything about them was give and take. They were partners in every way. Some of his feelings towards her had bothered him at first. It took great courage on his part to admit to her that he wanted her to stay in Durant when Sean was divorcing her. Giving voice to that deep desire had been harder than he thought. Walt wasn’t a man of many words. 

Vic stood on the porch and took a moment to watch Walt take the horse to the barn. He walked with such confidence and ease that belied the burden of being Sheriff that he somehow managed to keep in balance despite all the chaos that kept happening. All of weighed on them differently while Walt took the brunt of it. He was such a strong man that sometimes Vic thought he would never falter. And if he did, Vic prayed to whatever deity was listening that she would be there at his side to help. Smiling, she walked into the cabin and into the kitchen.

Walt came through the front door to the sound of running water in the kitchen. Vic was by the sink washing her hands, the wrapped up steak on the counter next to the stove, a skillet resting on a burner waiting to be turned on. He came up behind her, his hands going to her hips. Vic gasped out of momentary surprise, but eagerly melted back in against him. Walt lightly kissed the outside of her left ear. “What else do you want with the steak?” 

“Beer,” Vic chuckled lightly turning, draping her arms over his shoulders. The look Walt gave her told her that was a given. “I think I saw two potatoes in the pantry.” She cleared her throat trying to think beyond the press of his body against hers. Now that she’d had a taste of him, she hungered for more. If she wasn’t so hungry, she would suggest that they skipped dinner and go straight to desert. 

“Sounds good.” Walt leaned in kissing Vic’s forehead. He wanted her more than he wanted a good cooked steak at the moment. Vic was an addiction he didn’t know how he gotten. He was sure it started the day she walked into his station looking for a job. “The sooner I cook these steaks, and we eat…” He was hungering for her, more so than he wanted to eat the steaks that still hadn’t thawed out. 

Vic licked her lips, “The sooner we can move to desert.” For all that to happen, she would have to move back, to take her arms from around Walt, but she couldn’t make herself move. She wanted nothing more than to have him lift her, set her on the counter and ravish her mouth, bring her body to a boiling point, and then when she thought she wouldn’t be able to take much more, he would take her to the bed and give her such a sweet release that it would bring tears to her eyes. 

 

TO BE CONTINUED…

 

A/N: I want to take a few minutes and apologize for being away from this for so long. A family tragedy struck that sent me to a dark place where the comfort of words couldn’t be found. I’m slowly coming back to my fics in the wake of all that’s happened. I hope you all will hang in there with me. Thank you so much for your understanding and patience.


	6. Chapter 6

CLOSURE:  
TWO MONTHS AGO

 

Vic could hardly control her breathing. Her chest rose and fell with ragged gasps in response to Walt kissing his way down her stomach. She felt her muscles quivering with each press of his lips as he moved further down to the waist band of her jeans. Watching him kneel between her parted thighs, Vic was mesmerized by the way he freed the button and lowered her zipper revealing the hem of her black underwear. He leaned back down nibbling flesh just above her navel. Vic pressed her head back into the pillow, a moan escaping her. She couldn’t believe how good the stubble along his jaw felt against her abdomen.

Walt sat back, his hands going to her jeans when she stopped him. Vic got off the bed to stand before him letting her unbuttoned shirt slide to the floor leaving her torso clad in just her bra. He came to the edge of the bed, feet planted on the floor, and his hands going to her hips where he pulled her between his parted knees. She had reached around to undo the clasp of her bra, but stalled her actions. Walt wanted to do that. His hands traced the elastic edge of the black cotton until the tips of his fingers hit on the clasp, where he released it. The thin straps fell down her shoulders and fell to the floor.

Vic breathed in sharply when a breath of cool air whispered around her body, her skin shivering, and her nipples hardening. Walt brought his hands up, cupping her, his thumbs brushing over her, sending little ripples of pleasure through her. She brought her hands up to rest on his shoulders. He brushed his lips lightly over the hard bud of her right breast bringing forth yet another moan that had her sinking her teeth into her bottom lip. Then she dug her fingers into his shoulders when he closed his mouth over her. His tongue swirled around the sensitive nub. “Oh, god… Walt…” Vic moaned his name.

Walt concentrated on the taste of Vic in his mouth, the feel of her ripe berry against his tongue. Lazily he suckled her, delighting in the feel of her nail biting into his skin. Pulling back, he looked up at her, seeing her head thrown back. It spurred him on to mimic his actions on her left nipple. He just wanted to take the time to explore her, to learn what drive her higher and higher. Walt let her go, his hand going to her hips where his fingers curled into the jeans peeling them down revealing her hip bones. It was too tempting to pass up, so he angled his head nipping at the subtle rise wrangling yet another moan from his feisty blonde. 

Vic wanted to stop him. She wanted her chance to touch him, to have her mouth on him. Her intention was to stop him when his hands gripped the back of her thighs. The strength was that of a man. She let him take her back to the bed where she had been, stretched out before him. Walt continued to peel her jeans down, making her feel fully exposed to him. She had the smallest amount of a blush creeping into her cheeks, but that was pushed aside in light of his ravenous gaze going up and down her body. The jeans vanished, with Walt kneeling between her thighs, her knees on either side of his hips. Vic sat up placing her fingers against the buckle. Pulling it free, she dropped it to the floor, and then yanked the button open before lowering the zipper with a loud hiss. 

Walt moaned when Vic lowered the worn fabric of his jeans relieving some of the pressure that had built up from the fabrics restriction. He didn’t want to move. He wanted to stay gazing at her spread out beneath him. Leaning down, his lips took hers once more as he gripped her wrists, gentle at first, but then passion took hold of him. He wanted to devour her. Walt ravished Vic’s mouth, kissing her back down to the bed, pressing his body to hers. She was pure heaven to his battered body, the way her knees gripped his hips had him wanting to be inside her. Walt had to dig his fingers into her skin to reign himself in. He wanted to savor her. 

Vic didn’t know what to feel first. Walt possessing her mouth, the way his rested over her with such delicious weight she could feel his heart beating against her breast, or the way she could feel him just pressing at her entrance. It would take much to shift, to have that first little bit of him sliding inside her. When she started to shift, Walt stopped her by gripping her wrists tighter. They both froze, both looked at each other. Vic could see what he wanted, but she wanted something else. She wanted him. She hungered for him to take her, to be out of breath with him.

Walt loosened his grip, reluctantly removing himself from Vic’s seductive embrace. He didn’t want to be making love to her with his jeans down around his ankles like some teenager. Standing up, and without meaning too, he had his back to her, his scars easily seen. They never spoke about them, about how he got them other than what little he told her in his, as Vic would put it, ‘Mono syllabic Gary Cooper crap’. Walt felt Vic get up, felt the heat of her naked body bleeding into his back. She touched the longest of the scars, the tip of her finger moving up slowly. He frozen to the spot from her sweet touch. Then he felt her lips pick up where her fingers left off. 

Vic never wanted to ask Walt about the brutal scar he bore upon his back. They were from a dark time after his wife was murdered. It wasn’t fair of her to ask. She wanted to know, like anyone would, but she wasn’t going to ask. When Walt turned around, taking the sight of his back from her eyes, she didn’t mind. She placed her hands on his chest, sliding them up to rest on his strong shoulders as his hands came to her hips once more. Vic leaned in, her lips pressing into his, sweetly, gently. She let him guide her back to the bed where she welcomed him once more between her thighs. 

Walt levered himself up onto his forearms to look down at Vic. The heat of her body soaked into him, hardening him further. His manhood nudged between her wet nether lips, the tip of him poised to enter her. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes fluttering closed. Walt thrust forward, sinking home inside her, moaning as she gripped him. He could barely breathe from the feel of her. 

Vic’s fingers gripped Walt’s side, her head pushing back into the pillow. “Oh, god….” She moaned letting her body grow accustomed to the feeling of him inside her. Vic dug her right heel into the mattress, giving her the leverage to move a little bit. Walt moved with her, drawing back. She locked her eyes with his, seeing the passion darkening his gaze. He thrust into her, this time she moved with him, meeting him thrust for thrust. At first he was easy, each thrust testing her depths. “I won’t break…” Vic gasped.

Walt let some of his control slip, thrusting a little harder. He moved, his hips meeting hers with ease. They kept their gazes on each other, falling into each other until all he could feel was her. The way she gasped from each thrust, the way she gripped him; all of it was branded into his body, into his soul. “Vic,” Walt took her lips picking up the pace. He drank in her moans, spurred on to give her what she wanted. 

Vic felt the fire racing through her veins, the ecstasy of having him over her, inside her. With each thrust from Walt, her muscles tightened trying to hold him before he pulled out. The friction radiated through her, sparks snapping her nerve endings. She was already close to falling over the edge of oblivion. Vic moaned into Walt’s kiss, hiking her knees up higher, deepening his drive inside her. He lunged into her again, hard, and It triggered the sensual explosion that had been buildings. She broke their kiss, crying out holding Walt close to her. He tried to move away, but she wouldn’t let him, she wanted the weight of him, warm and solid, over her. Lightly, over and over, she kissed his cheek.

Walt gently fell to Vic’s side. He couldn’t stay atop her, even as strong as she was, he still had more muscle than she did. Lying on his stomach, turning his head to see the red tint on her cheeks, the way her chest rose and fell with the effort to take in a deep breath. Vic looked at him, a lazy sated smile on her amazing lips. She turned on her side, pressing against him, and her lips kissing the closest scar on his back. His heart was racing and he didn’t want it to stop. Being with Vic was more than he thought it would be, better, passionate. He was feeling his heart starting to heal after all this time.

Vic didn’t want to let this intimate atmosphere leave them so soon. She wanted to bask in the afterglow for as long as she could. And yet, that didn’t keep her from opening her mouth and saying, “You never told me how you got these.” The best time to loosen a man’s tongue was right after he’d made love to a woman.

Walt closed his eyes against the feel of her finger running up and down the long jagged line on his back. On days when the memories surfaced, he could feel the cold bite of steel slicing open his back. His first instinct was to remain silent, to bury what happened even deeper. That was his intention, and yet, he started to talk. “I went to Denver to kill Miller Beck.” Walt said. “He was with two other addicts, all of them high, but all I saw was Beck, all I wanted was to take his life. I was so focused that when the first blow came from the blade I was disoriented, and then enraged. That rage made me careless and I barely made it to the hotel where Henry was waiting.” Walt moved, sitting on the edge of the bed. He could still feel traces of that pure white hot anger burning inside him, reminding him of the darkness he was capable of.

Vic didn’t let him put distance between them. She pressed herself against his back, her arms wrapping around his torso. There was nothing she could say to that. So, she stayed quiet, and held him while he wrestled with the repercussions of what he’d very nearly done. In the end, she knew, he wasn’t a killer. That had been David Ridges, he’d killed Beck. So much had happened to Walt in just a few years. Any other man would have cracked under the weight, but not Walt. He not only made it through the personal hell of his grief, but he brought the real killer to justice and freed his best friend. This was the Walt she followed loyally.

“Don’t think any less of me, do you?” Walt asked, because he had to ask. What Vic thought of him mattered, more than it should.

“No,” Vic shook her head, her chin resting on his strong shoulder. “I would have done the same thing.” At least she thought she would.

Walt rested his temple to Vic’s drawing in as much of her body heat as he could. “You’re a good woman, Vic.” She didn’t respond except to hold him as tight as she could. Her touch felt good, it felt right mending his heart against the terrible pain.

 

PRESENT:  
WALT’S OFFICE:

 

Vic breezed into the office with Raphe following her. She wanted to get this last bit on record, and then she was done. Her life in Philadelphia was over, there was no going back. Reaching out, she pressed the record button on the video camera and said, “The last time I saw Ed Gorski was in Philadelphia after all the bullet casings that were left in my locker, on my car, and after he broke into my house. I was putting in my papers just before my now ex-husband and I transferred out here to Durant, Wyoming. Everything I told you is all I’m going to tell you.” 

“Victoria….” Raphe cut off the camera. “I know there is more you’re holding back.” He said hoping it would draw her back to her chair. 

“Yeah, there’s plenty I’m not telling you. What I haven’t said can’t help you because the rest of it happened here, outside your prosecutorial jurisdiction.” Vic put her hands on her hips. “I’m done talking about the nightmare Ed Gorski put me through. He’s locked up, getting what he richly deserves and I’m here. Free from it all.” She truly was. Gorski had wanted her to lose everything. That night at Gilbert’s place, she thought she had, and so had he. It was what made him leave her alone finally.

“Alright.” Raphe nodded his head. “I hated to put you through this….”

“No, you didn’t.” Vic shook her head interrupting him. “You wouldn’t have known about my dealings with him had Vincent not told you. My brother is the reason you’re here. And now you can go home.” She was ready for Vincent, her mother, and Raphe to leave Durant. They were upsetting the balance she’d found here, especially with Walt. 

“It’s true, Vincent pointed me in your direction.” Raphael confirmed. “He knew you would talk to me rather than him, seeing as the two of you end up shouting at each other. I wouldn’t let you get away with using your sarcasm.”

“Whatever…” Vic rolled her eyes. “You’re just lucky I like you.” She cracked a small smile. They’d known each other since they were kids. Raphe had been one person she could talk to easily. 

“Then what would you say to dinner tonight? My treat of course.” Raphe offered. 

“Uhh... Raphe…. I’m involved with someone.” Vic replied hoping he didn’t ask for a name. How would he react to the fact she was dating Walt?

“Oh?” Raphe asked playfully. “It’s the Indian bartender, isn’t it? He seems like he’d be into blonde’s.”

“Henry? God no!” Vic laughed. “He’s nice but not my type.” This was Raphe joking with her. It felt familiar and it did plenty to wipe away the annoyance she had when he was questioning her. 

“Then bring your guy along.” Raphe offered. He wanted to have some time with her, to talk to his old friend even if her significant other was along for the conversation. It had been too many years since last he’d seen her, talk to her. Raphe found he missed her brand of humor.

Vic’s detective senses tingled at Raphe’s offer of dinner, and bringing Walt along. “You’re fishing. Why?” She asked. Raphael was a very good lawyer, and he was even better at finding things people tended to want to keep buried. “Did my brother put you up to this?”

“I’m happy you’re seeing someone. Sean was all wrong for you, a convenient escape. But whoever you’re with now, you seem actually happy.” Raphe admitted. It had been a long time since he’d seen true bliss in her eyes. 

“I am.” Vic answered. She was really happy with Walt. All that she’d gone through with Ed, with Sean, he was able to wash it all away and make her feel like someone new, someone without so much emotional baggage. 

“And you can’t tell me who it is because….?” Raphe tried again.

“You might not understand.” Vic said lightly checking to make sure the camera was really off and so was the recorder he’d had on earlier. Everything was off. “You might see it as me making the same mistake I’ve already made.” She shrugged Really, it didn’t matter what Raphe thought, or her brother, or even her mother. When all was said and done, Vic was happy.

“It’s Longmire, isn’t it?” Raphe asked, his voice soft enough so only they could hear it. He didn’t see it as a mistake. No one could help who they fell for. No one. That night in the Red Pony he’d seen her go to him. He’d watched the way she stood close to him, the smile on Longmire’s face when Vic came towards him. Raphe didn’t need to be a genius to see what was going on between them. 

“Yeah,” Vic nodded. “He’s the one. You still want to have dinner?” She chuckled when Raphe shook his head. It wasn’t so terrible for her to know that he knew about her and Walt. At least Raphael wasn’t as judgmental as her brother was, or her mother. “So, when do you three go home?”

“Tomorrow.” Raphe answered. “You should tell you mother the truth, the real truth about why you’re never coming back to Philly.”

“Ha!” Vic scoffed. “No, she could not handle it.” She didn’t want to subject Walt to her mother’s scornful gaze. 

“You’re right about that, but she should still know.” Raphe advised. “I’m only telling you this as a friend.”

“I know,” Vic walked over to him, putting her hand on his shoulder. At one time, she knew he wanted more between them, but that wasn’t meant to happen. 

 

RED PONY:  
EVENING:

 

Walt sat in his Bronco with Vic in the passenger seat looking at the entrance to the Red Pony, Henry’s bar. This afternoon, after the lawyer left, Vic told him the details of her conversation. Then the rest of the day had gone by without anything happening in the county. Now they were going to have a bite to eat before heading back to the cabin. In truth Walt could forgo the meal and would happily turn the engine over and take the road towards home. “You don’t have to do this.” Walt muttered gripping his keys. 

“I know,” Vic nodded keeping her eyes on the door. The rental car Raphe had was in the lot which meant Vince and her mom was also in there having dinner before their flight home tomorrow. She had been all set to go in there, tell them the truth, and then leave. But as she watched the door, her determination wavered. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t known to back down in the face of anyone, including her family. “Raphe is right. I should tell my mother about us. As much as I hate to say it, the idiot is right.”

“Then why are we still sitting here?” Walt asked. Not that he was complaining. He wasn’t eager to see Vic face off against her brother and mother again. Vic had seethed in the passenger seat on the way to his cabin for twenty minutes after the last confrontation she had with her mother. It actually made Walt a little uncomfortable waiting for her to calm down. 

“Because, I can already predict where this conversation is going to go.” Vic sighed heavily. “We go in there, they see us, I pretend to play nice, and then I come clean about who we are to each other. Then there will be a moment’s pause before my dear mother starts in with her judgments, and her general lack of faith that I can make a good decision ever. I’ll get mad, say some very hurtful things, and then storm out under a steam of righteous anger.” She knocked her head back against the head rest. 

“Let’s go have a drink. Don’t go to them, let them come to you.” Walt suggested. He wasn’t exactly eager to get out of his truck. He was too old to be dealing with mother’s. Hell, he was too old to be the boyfriend. Walt shook his head. Vic was worth it, that much he knew with utter certainty. 

Vic knew he was right. She’d run away once already. Once was allowed. Twice would make her a coward. Though, was it cowardly to avoid a fight she already knew was coming? She didn’t know, but she wasn’t one to back down and she certainly wasn’t going to hide from her brother or her mother. Vic had changed from who they used to know. Steeling her nerves for the coming storm, she got out of the Bronco.

Walt preceded Vic into the Red Pony, making sure to hold the swinging shutters open for her. They made their way to the end of the bar, where Walt usually sat, and ordered two beers. Vic scanned the crowd looking for her family. He could see her watching them at the table by the fireplace. Under the bar, Walt reached out taking her hand to keep her from clenching it into a fist again. Vic did confrontation in an explosive manner. “Don’t lose your head, Vic.” He muttered. 

Vic sucked in a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and nodded. “This is going to be worse than the time mom found out I had sex with a senior in high school.”

Walt arched his brow. He should be used to her saying things like that, but he wasn’t. “Really?”

“Told you I was a bad girl.” Vic shrugged feeling the first ebb of amusement. Rattling Walt always made her want to smile wickedly. 

“Victoria.”

Vic turned to look at her mom. “Mom.” This wasn’t feeling awkward at all. “We need to talk.” She looked to Walt who motioned for her to use Henry’s office. With one last look to her cowboy lover Vic closed the door giving herself nowhere to run and no choice but to face her mother. 

“Vicki, what’s going on?” Elizabeth crossed her arms.

Vic turned, resting her back against the door. “You asked why I didn’t want to leave Wyoming. Well, now I’m going to tell you.”

Out in the bar Walt fought with himself to keep from watching the door. “I’m too old for this.” He mumbled moments before his best friend stood before. “I need a shot and a beer.” Walt ordered. 

“That bad?” Henry asked.

“Yup.” Walt said. “If you hear things breaking, it’s not going well.”

Henry eyed the closed door of his office. “I will keep my distance.” He muttered walking away to tend to the orders of two new patrons who had taken a seat at the bar. 

Vic sat on the small couch in Henry’s office with her forearms resting on her knees, her fingers laced together. “You’ve never approved of my choices, not since I was in high school. This is going to be one more choice I’ve made that will have you pulling your hair out. I’m not coming home because of my life here, because of who I’m with.” 

“I knew you were dating someone!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “It’s the young handsome blonde deputy you work with, isn’t it?”

“Branch?” Vic arched her brow at her mother. “You think I’m dating Branch Connelly? Uhh…. No!” She got to her feet, her arms crossing over her chest. “It’s not Branch. It’s Walt.” Vic sucked in a deep breath waiting for the explosion of her mother’s disapproval to rain down on her. 

“Walt as in Sheriff Longmire?” Elizabeth asked. “Victoria Moretti, when will you stop doing this to your life?” 

“Here it comes.” Vic muttered. 

“Do have a self-destructive nature? The last figure of authority you had relations with, he ended up stalking you. And now, you turn around and put yourself in the same type of situation.” Elizabeth ranted. 

“Walt is not a stalker.” Vic defended getting to her feet. “He is the very definition of ‘Honorable’. Does it even matter to you that I’m happy with him? For the first time I actually am not in fear for my safety with him.” 

“I will never understand how you make such a mess of your life.” Elizabeth shook her head. “Why do you do this?”

“Because it’s my life.” Vic stated, a bit of a bite to her words. “And that’s what irritates you so much. I’m living my life differently than you and dad. Does it kill you to know that I might actually be in love with Walt?” 

“I’m you mother, and I want the best for you. I don’t think that man is right for you.” Elizabeth closed the distance between her and Victoria. “I want you to have the life you deserve.” 

“Walt’s what I deserve.” Vic answered. “Whether you like it or not, being with him makes me a better person.” She had lived too long with secrets before coming to Durant. Walt gave her the strength to move forward with her life. 

“I don’t see this lasting,” Elizabeth sighed and then walked out of the back to return to her son.

Vic wanted to say she felt hurt her mother had turned her back on her, only, she didn’t. She told the truth about her and Walt. It was out there for her mother to know and that made the weight on her chest lighter. She was breathing easier when Walt walked in coming straight for her. Vic didn’t let him say anything. Draping her arms over his shoulders, cupping the back of his head, she kissed him. This was where she was supposed to be, and she was alright with that. Pulling back, she smiled at him. “Buy me a drink?”

“I take it that didn’t go so well?” Walt asked, slightly confused by Vic’s reaction. 

“It went about how I thought it would, and you know what? I’m not bothered by it.” Vic answered. “I’ll never live the life she wants me to. This is where I want to be. Right here in Durant, with you.” 

 

THE END

 

A/N: Thanks to all of you who read my fanfic, who stuck around during the long period between chapters. I’ve chosen to end the fic here on a good note. Enjoy!


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